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attic, but you said no, you didn't want phones ringing and people coming and going."
    "I told you to rent space."
    "That was five years ago. The business was smaller. Renting seemed extravagant. I'd have stayed here in the den if I could have, only I needed more space. So we put the office in Brody's garage. Not his house. His garage."
    "You're in his house all the time. I've seen you. You use the kitchen. You use the bathroom. I'll bet you know his bedroom soup to nuts." I nearly screamed, he made the picture so dark and dirty. "You're dead wrong. There is nothing going on between me and Brody that doesn't go on all the time with people who work together."
    "And travel together. To wit, this week. Four nights in High Point."
    "Working."
    "Uh-huh. I have telephone records from other trips. For every call to us, there were three to him."
    "He's my CEO," I repeated. "My business partner." "So why weren't those calls made during business hours?"
    "Because I was busy with other people during business hours. Calling home had to come before or after."
    "Brody's calls sure were after. Nine-forty-five at night. Ten-thirty. Eleven-fifteen."
    "That's right. By the time I was done talking with you and the kids, by the time I had something to eat and turned on my laptop and evaluated what I'd done that day and listed what my second in command needed to know and what I needed to ask him, and taking time differences into account, it was that late." I knew I sounded defensive, but Dennis's charges were so unfair that I couldn't let them stand.
    "Nice that Brody didn't mind."
    "He's a night owl like me."
    "And how do you know that?"
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    Barbara Delinsky - A Woman's Place
    "The same way you do. Because Brody is our closest friend!" I pushed a hand through my hair, like that would straighten everything out. My mind was jumbled up, not the least of it from the realization that Dennis had to have been planning all this, gathering arguments for a long time. Telephone records? Brody and me? "Brody was your college roommate. You've known him almost twenty-five years. He was your business partner long before he was mine. He was your best man. He's our kids' godfather, their favorite uncle, and, yes, okay, he's my best friend. If you're jealous of all that, I'm sorry--"
    "Jealous? He can have you! Sex between you and me was mediocre at best!" I felt I'd been hit in the stomach, actually bent at the middle. "You never complained about sex with me. You couldn't get enough."
    "Damn right. It was like pulling teeth. Either you were exhausted, or up late working, or listening for one of the kids to be sick--"
    "Hold it! I rarely put you off, and you never had sex without coming, so what is your complaint? Don't throw stereotypes at me, Dennis. No matter how busy I was, I made time. We had sex plenty."
    "Quantity. Not quality."
    I prayed to the ceiling. "Good God, what's going on here?"
    "This," Dennis said, slapping the paper that hung from my hand. When I took a step back, he swung in front of the phone. I was too stunned to react when he put the receiver to his ear and punched in a call, then befuddled when he gave our address and said, "Get someone here fast." It wasn't until he hung up the phone that I realized what he'd done. My husband, who had given me a hug and waved me off barely two weeks ago without a hint of his plans, had just called the police.
    "Dennis." I fought panic. "My God, Dennis. You're burning bridges, here."
    "Leave."
    "What are you doing to our lives?"
    "You've done it, not me."
    "I need the children, they need me."
    "They have me, now."
    "Now? Now? All of a sudden? Where have you been for the last nine years?
    I want my children."
    "Tell it to the judge on Monday. In the meantime, I want you out."
    "But I'm your wife."
    "According to the court, we're formally separated." I was having trouble breathing, felt more battered with each thing he said. And the way he said it. So uncaring? So blunt? So fixed? I didn't understand