Her eyes lifted to mine. “Why does there have to be?”
“Because you have your suitcase packed, Natalie. This isn't an idea you had ten minutes ago.”
“I've been talking to people, yes. Nothing you need to be dramatic about.”
“What kind of talking?”
“I don't owe you a transcript of every conversation I've had.”
I stood up, slowly enough that she didn't step back. “I'm going to say something clearly, because I don't want either of us pretending there was a misunderstanding. You're free to leave. I'm not going to stop you. But if you walk out of this house to date other men, our marriage is over. I won't be here waiting to compete for the privilege of being your husband.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then gave a short laugh. “You're emotional. You'll calm down.”
“I'm calm now.”
“You won't throw away twelve years over a little space.”
“You're the one who decided to risk those twelve years.”
She moved around the island and took the suitcase handle. “When I come back, we'll talk like adults.”
“We're talking like adults right now.”
“Not really. You're issuing ultimatums.”
“I'm telling you a boundary.”
“Call it whatever makes you feel better.”
She pulled her suitcase toward the hall. The wheels made their familiar soft rattling sound over the hardwood. At the front door, she paused long enough for me to think she might turn around. A foolish part of me, the part that had loved her through nearly every version of herself since we were twenty-three, wanted her to drop the bag and say she'd made a terrible mistake. Instead, she straightened her jacket and checked the time on her phone.