The lawyers began with the house, the mortgage, and the household bills. Natalie and I had both contributed to our home, though in different proportions at different points in the marriage. When her income was higher, she'd carried more of our living costs. When I started taking a regular salary from Oak & Stone, I had paid down the mortgage aggressively. Our attorneys explained that we'd need a fair valuation, a division of equity, and a workable plan for where each of us would live while the process continued.
Natalie wanted to stay in the house part of the week. I understood the request even though the thought made me uneasy. Legally and emotionally, it was her home, too. We discussed a temporary schedule and the possibility of my remaining there while she stayed with Ben or rented an apartment, with financial adjustments accounted for later. She ultimately said she didn't want to move back unless there was a genuine chance of reconciliation. I told her there wasn't. She looked down at her hands while the attorneys recorded our provisional agreement.
Then Sarah raised the business valuation. She asked about Ryan's membership interest, the Westbridge proposal, and whether I expected to continue operating Oak & Stone. Leah answered most of the technical questions, but when Sarah asked whether I intended to sell the business to fund a settlement, I said no.
“That's not a simple decision,” Sarah replied.
“I know. We'll value it properly and work out a division. But I'm not going to sell our employees' livelihoods because Ryan promised somebody a transaction he didn't have permission to complete.”
Natalie looked up sharply at Ryan's name. It was the first time she'd heard me discuss the business dispute in any detail. After the lawyers reviewed the remaining matters, she asked whether we could speak privately for a few minutes. Leah looked at me. I thought about it and said yes, provided our attorneys stayed nearby and we confined ourselves to a conversation rather than negotiating legal terms.
We moved into a smaller meeting room with a round table and two chairs. Natalie sat with her hands folded in front of her. For a while she stared at the wood grain. The silence wasn't hostile, but it was heavy with all the conversations we had avoided over the years.
“I've been seeing a therapist,” she said finally.
“I'm glad.”
“I told her everything.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“She asked me something I couldn't answer. She asked why I needed to call it exploration instead of admitting I was having an affair.”
I waited.
“I told myself there was a difference because I didn't want to leave you. I wanted to feel desired without giving up the things I loved about our life. Saying I was exploring made it sound like I was being brave. Saying I was having an affair meant admitting I was lying to someone who trusted me.”
I watched her carefully. This was the first time she had described what happened without immediately adding that I'd been distant or that our marriage had become stale. Her voice was unsteady, but she wasn't asking me to correct her.
“Why did you tell me about the other men at all?” I asked. “Why not just admit Ryan was involved?”