I’m leaving, Sarah. I leave everything to you and my daughter—but I have one request.

I dont love you any longer, Emma, I said firmly, feeling the weight of the words. Ive been turning it over in my mind, weighing every pro and con, and Ive realised its true I dont love you.

I was perched at the kitchen table, while Emma stood by the window, the rain tapping against the glass.

Ive known that for a while, Leon, Emma replied, a sigh slipping out of her.

For a while? I stared at her, surprised. Really?

Does it surprise you? She opened the window, breathed in the fresh air, smiled, and shut it again.

No, but I thought you didnt realise I managed a wry grin. In that case, Emma, things get simple. We have to part ways.

Are you certain thats what you want? she asked. Do you think its right? After all, weve been married for years, we have a child.

Ill pay child support and all that, I said. Ill keep helping you financially; you can count on that. And I dont need anything from you, Emma.

What do you mean, I dont need anything? she looked baffled.

I mean I wont lay claim to the house or split any assets, I said, glancing at the empty tabletop.

Youre talking about the flat in Kensington and the cottage in Surrey that I bought before we met? she asked. You wont try to split those?

No, Emma, no, I answered, because Im above that. If I were a less noble sort of fellow, Id have stripped you of everything, Emma.

Stripped me? she repeated.

Stripped you clean, Emma, stripped you clean, I said. Id have left you and our daughter with nothing. But I wont. Im giving you everything. Take it. I want nothing. Thats the sort of man I am a man with a clear conscience.

Thank you, Leon, she said, a hint of irony in her tone. Youre a proper gentleman, unlike some.

Some? I frowned, then turned my eyes to the fridge.

Those who dont have a conscience as clean as yours, Emma clarified.

Ah, them, I understood, and my gaze fell on the sink piled with unwashed dishes. Yes, there are plenty of blokes out there who, to put it mildly, disgrace the title of gentleman. You wouldnt believe some of the characters Ive come across. How many of those sort do you think the world produces?

Emma smirked, still watching the drizzle outside.

*I love a rainy day when the house is quiet, warm, and calm,* she thought.

The world sorts everyone out, Leon, and men theyre a mixed lot, she said.

Oh, Emma, theyre a mixed lot indeed, I replied cheerfully, staring again at the table. Let me tell you a story. Theres a chap in my office, a real piece of work. Imagine, when his wife left him

Spare me that tale for another time, Emma cut in. Im busy now. Anything else you want to say about us? Or are you finished?

Oh, Im not done, I said. Theres still the main point.

Im listening, she kept her eyes on the window.

Emma, I said, leaning over the table, Im walking out, leaving everything to you and our daughter, but I have one request.

A request?

Could you spare me five hundred thousand? I pleaded. Ill pay you back, honest as Im standing.

Five hundred thousand? she raised an eyebrow. Are you sure thatll be enough?

Im sure, love, I said. Ive done the maths.

Youve done the maths? she laughed. Even so!

Youre joking, love, but its not a fortune for eight years of marriage. I hold no grudges against you.

No, she said firmly. I wont give you five hundred thousand. Thats far too much.

How could I not? I was bewildered. You wont hand it over?

I wont, she answered.

*Strange,* I thought. *How could she refuse?* I had expected a different reaction. My sisterinlaw, Nadine, had assured me that £500,000 wasnt a mountain for Emma, especially if I were giving up everything. *Why cant she see the risk?*

How much will you give, then? I asked, my eyes drifting to the battered fridge.

Nothing, Emma said, stepping away from the window and taking a seat at the table.

*There you have it,* I mused. *Nothing at all. What am I supposed to do now?*

What about three hundred thousand? I tried again.

Not a penny, she replied.

How can that be? I was at a loss. You just wont give anything?

I wont, she repeated.

I thought maybe the sum is too high, but if you wont even consider three hundred thousand, perhaps fifty thousand?

Youre tiring me, Leon, Emma snapped.

Fine, I said after a pause. If thats how you frame it, Ill pursue my rights elsewhere.

Do as you wish, she said. Rights love to be defended, especially in a different arena.

Who will file for the divorce, you or me? I asked sharply.

Which divorce, Leon? Wake up, she laughed. Weve been split for ages.

Split? I shouted. Why didnt I know?

Three years ago you left the house and only phoned three times since. The first call was to tell me not to worry. The second was about some serious issue. The third was to say you didnt love me and to ask for money.

I needed time to think it through, Emma, I said. I was trying to keep the family together. How did you manage a divorce without me?

They sent you summons to your address, but you never turned up, she replied.

I deliberately avoided the hearings, I admitted. I thought staying away would stop the split. I wasnt yet convinced I didnt love you. I figured if I didnt show up, they couldnt force a divorce. Yet they did.

They did, Leon.

How is that possible? I exclaimed. To strip a man of wife and child without his presence!

If you chose not to be there, who can blame you? Emma said. Only yourself.

How could I attend, Emma, when you know I loathe all that courtroom drama? I answered. You know me, all the fights, the hassle. I never wanted strangers poking around our business.

Thats why it went through, she said. The judge, of course.

Ah, the judge, I realised whom she meant, glancing at the battered sink. The magistrate.

Have you finally realised were no longer husband and wife?

Ive got it, I sighed heavily. So thats that.

Thats it.

Right, then its over. The past is the past, as they say. How did it all unfold?

It went smoothly, Leon, Emma said. No outsiders, just our own.

Our own is good. You know I hate having strangers hear about our troubles. If everyone is our own, thats fine. How was the judge?

She was calm, no yelling, Emma replied. She even remembered me from time to time.

Really?

Yes.

What did she say?

She asked where you were.

And you?

I said I didnt know.

And she?

She didnt mind. She said it was fine to proceed without me. Thats why the divorce went through. And why do you want the halfmillion?

I need it for a renovation, I explained. I thought Nadine and I were solid, that we loved each other. Did I never mention Nadine to you?

No.

Shes a wonderful woman, just divorced herself. Didnt I tell you?

No.

We met three years ago, I said. I called you then to say everything was okay.

I remember the call, but you never brought up Nadine.

Were on good terms. A year ago she became a mother; we have a little girl. I thought the flat needed work wiring, heating, the whole lot. You know how those postwar apartments are.

I know.

Nadine suggested I ask you for the money. Otherwise well take more from you.

She was trying to scare me?

Yes, but dont think badly of her; shes decent. Its just that were short of cash.

Dont rush the refurb, Leon, Emma advised.

Why not, love?

Because the threebedroom flat on Engle Street was bought while we were married, so half of it belongs to me, the court decided.

You cant do that, Emma, I protested. After I said Id leave everything to you and our daughter you cant answer me like that.

I could buy your share, or sell mine, or offer you a onebed flat on the first floor of a fivestorey block on Civil Avenue, newly finished. Your choice.

Is that all? I shouted. Thats all you and Nadine can offer? We have a child. Did you think of him?

If you keep prattling, Ill sell my share to the first taker, Emma warned. Youll end up in a council house with Nadine and the child.

I stared at the pile of dishes, the battered fridge, the cracked ceiling, the filthy floor, the oldfashioned windows. I thought of the broken TV, the damp bathroom, the clogged toilet, and tears welled up.

Im willing, I whispered.