I watched the door of my townhouse with nervous anticipation. Lysander had sent a note requesting to meet, and though I'd agreed, part of me worried he'd come to fight the divorce after all. The last thing I needed was more drama after yesterday's confrontation with Annelise.
When he arrived precisely on time, I was struck by how tired he looked. The handsome man I'd married thirty years ago was still visible beneath the lined face and graying hair, but there was a weariness about him I'd rarely seen before.
"Rowena," he greeted me with a formal bow. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Of course," I replied, gesturing for him to enter the drawing room. "Would you like tea?"
He shook his head. "This won't take long. I wanted to assure you that I won't contest the divorce proceedings."
Relief washed over me, though I kept my expression carefully neutral. "I appreciate that."
An awkward silence settled between us. Thirty years of marriage, and we could barely manage a conversation.
