“Then do it the way that lasts,” she said. “Paper trails. Court orders. Consequences. You want clean? We do clean. You want ruthless? We do it legally.”
I let my head rest against the seat.
“What do I do?”
“Hotel first. Use your personal card, not the joint account. Send me the evidence from the burner email you used.”
I opened my eyes. “How did you know I used a burner?”
“Because you’re not stupid. Also because I know you.”
A laugh almost escaped me and turned into something like a sob.
Maya continued. “Tomorrow morning, we move fast. Passwords, documents, banking, direct deposit. I file for temporary orders—exclusive use of the house if you want it, financial restraints so he can’t drain accounts, and no harassment language if necessary. But you cannot talk to him tonight. You cannot send a paragraph. You cannot ask why. Liars love why. Why gives them a stage.”
“What about Tessa?”
“Not tonight.”
“She was in my house.”
“I know.”
“Under my blanket.”
“I know.”
“With his arm around her.”
“I know. And you will not give either of them the gift of your emotion before you secure your position.”
Her voice was firm enough to hold me upright.
“You’ll want to scream,” she said. “Don’t. You document, protect your accounts, secure your home, and let them discover the new rules by running into them.”
I looked toward my house. From the street, it looked peaceful. Dark upstairs windows. Wreath on the door. Blue porch camera light blinking.
“You make it sound simple.”
“It isn’t simple. It’s procedural.”
“I don’t know if I can do procedural right now.”
“You can,” Maya said. “You do procedural for a living. Tonight you treat your life like intake. Facts first. Emotional care after stabilization.”
That was the first thing that cut through the shock enough to make me breathe.
Facts first.
Stabilization.
Words I knew.
I drove to a hotel near the interstate, one of those business hotels with beige walls, silent carpets, and a lobby that smelled like lemon cleaner. The woman at the front desk asked for my ID and credit card. I handed over my personal card, the one Caleb always said we should cancel because joint points were better. She smiled politely and gave me a room key.
To her, I was just a tired woman checking in after midnight.