He was sitting opposite me at our kitchen table, his cellphone turned facedown beside him.
Our five-year-old son, Kieran, had gone to sleep barely twenty minutes earlier.
Callum had just finished reading his favorite dinosaur book three times because Kieran refused to settle for anything less.
He had tucked our little boy into bed.
Then he’d returned to the kitchen, kissed my cheek, and handed me a generous slice of pecan pie.
Everything had seemed perfectly ordinary.
Until he sat down and calmly announced that our marriage was about to become something I had never agreed to.
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