Three weeks later, I sat across from Robert and signed the divorce papers.
He gave me the house, most of our savings, and a significant portion of the money connected to his business.
The financial adviser reviewing the agreement called the terms unusually generous.
Robert wore a gray suit and the blue tie I had given him.
“Why are you giving me nearly everything?” I asked.
“I will not need the house.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“Sign the papers, Greta.”
“A guilty man can still be generous.”
His mouth tightened.
“I am not doing this because of guilt.”
“Then why are you wearing my tie?”
He glanced down at it.
“It matched the suit.”
“You have not worn it in years.”
“Not everything means something.”
I signed.
Outside the office, Hanna and Steven waited beside Steven’s car.
I approached them carefully.
“Hanna, please. Let’s sit somewhere and talk.”
She stepped back.
“Did you get the house?”
“What?”
“Dad said he gave you everything you demanded.”
“I did not demand a divorce.”
Steven folded his arms.
“He is dying, Mom.”
“I know.”
“Then why turn this into a fight about money?”
“Your father was the one who wanted to leave.”
“Why would he lie about that?” Hanna asked.
Robert emerged from the building behind us.
I turned toward him.
“Tell them what you said in the kitchen.”
He lowered his eyes and walked past me.
Hanna opened the car door for him.
“Claire is taking care of Dad now.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“They are getting married.”
I stared at Robert.
He still refused to face me.
“In three weeks,” Hanna added. “Claire is willing to stay with him.”
“I was willing to stay.”
Hanna’s eyes filled with tears, but her voice remained cold.
“Then you should have acted like it.”
They drove away with Robert sitting in the back seat.
Three weeks later, an old friend showed me a photograph of the wedding while I was buying milk.
Claire wore a simple cream dress.
Robert wore the blue tie.
“At least he found some happiness,” the woman said. “Especially with so little time remaining.”
I handed her phone back.
“I stood beside him for 39 years.”
I picked up my milk.
“People remember the gossip and forget all the years that came before it.”
For the next four months, I cried, paid the bills, and repaired whatever broke around the house.
Hanna stopped answering my calls.
Steven answered twice but spoke as though I were a distant acquaintance.
Neither of them told me when Robert’s condition worsened.
I learned he had died through a message Hanna sent after midnight.
“Dad is gone.”
The following afternoon, she called.
“You cannot come to the funeral.”
I gripped the kitchen counter.
“He was my husband.”
“He stopped being your husband.”
“He was part of my life for 39 years.”
“Steven and I agreed that your presence would upset everyone.”
“I did not leave your father.”
“I am not discussing this again.”
The call ended.
I spent the day of Robert’s funeral alone.
I cleaned the house until three in the afternoon.
Then I removed Robert’s favorite mug from the cupboard.
For a moment, I considered throwing it away.
Instead, I washed it and left it on the drying rack.
The next morning, Claire came to my door.
I allowed her into the kitchen but did not offer her coffee.
“You have five minutes.”
She placed Robert’s blue tie on the table.
Then she removed three documents from her purse.
The first was a letter.
The second stated that Robert’s remaining business money had been assigned to me.
The third was an old bank statement.
My mother’s name appeared near the top.
My hands began shaking.
