My husband asked me for a divorce out of nowhere. No warning. No fight. No buildup. Just, “I want a divorce.
“I want a divorce,” David said, setting his coffee mug down on the blue ceramic mixing bowl I’d just washed. He didn’t look at me. He looked at the microwave clock. It was seven fourteen in the morning. The kitchen smelled of burnt toast and the lavender dish soap I bought on sale last week. I…
