My Wife Met Me At The Door With A Lawyer And Sneered: “Divorce, Or Life On My Terms?” I Signed…

Описание: My Wife Met Me At The Door With A Lawyer And Sneered: “Divorce, Or Life On My Terms?” I Signed…

The doorbell rang at exactly 3:47 PM on a Tuesday, which should have been my first clue that something was wrong. Nobody rings doorbells on Tuesday afternoons unless they're selling something you don't want or delivering news that'll ruin your week.

I opened the front door of our Portland suburban home to find my wife Rory standing there with a man in an expensive suit, both wearing expressions that could freeze coffee. The man carried a leather briefcase like it contained nuclear launch codes.

"Brent," Rory said, her voice colder than Oregon winter rain. "We need to talk."

I stepped aside, watching them march into my living room like they owned the place. Well, technically, we both owned it, but something told me that was about to change.

"This is Attorney Weller," Rory announced, settling into the chair where I usually watched basketball. The lawyer—a thin guy with slicked-back hair and predatory eyes—placed his briefcase on my coffee table with ceremonial precision.

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