Page 44 of Absolution

Usually, when I come home after a week, she’s all over me, wants to talk, catch up, reconnect, maybe sneak some under the sheets action before the kids need her.

But tonight?

Nothing.

She’s curled up on her side, facing away from me, breathing deep. Asleep.

Could she... no.

If she knew,reallyknew, she wouldn’t be lying next to me. Jackie’s an emotional creature. She throws things when she’s pissed, storms off mid-sentence, cries when her she’s angry. If she knew, there’d be no calm. She’d have set fire to the house or at least my closet.

Still, I don’t sleep well.

The next morning, she’s in the kitchen with the girls, brushing Jemma’s hair while Iris eats a toaster waffle over the sink. She looks like any tired mom, calm but occupied.

Then, out of nowhere, she says, “I’ve decided to go back to school.”

I look up from pouring coffee. “What?”

“Now that the kids are in middle school, I’ve been thinking about it. It’s time. I want to look into childcare options this week.”

Usually, this is when she waits for my opinion, when I say it’s too soon, that we’ll figure it out later, that it’s not a good time.

But she didn’t ask this time. She told me.

“I can pay for it myself,” she adds, not looking at me. “The money from my parents... it’s more than enough for classes and childcare.”

I tighten my grip on the mug. “I can pay for my wife’s education and my kids’ care. I don’t need your parents’ money for that.”

She just shrugs. “Okay.”

That’s it. No argument. No fight. No pushback.

When I leave for work, I pause at the door. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Jackie glances up from braiding Iris’s hair now. “Of course. I’m just thinking about the future.”

“Well... okay then.”

But the whole ride to the office, her voice echoes in my head. Calm. Distant. Calculated.

That’s not Jackie. Jackie doesn’t hide how she feels. So why now?

I’m still mulling it over when my phone rings.

It’s Clara, my legal secretary.

“Mr. Greyson, you’re going to want to hear this. One of our clients, Mr. Knowles, had dinner last night with Simon Lynch.”

I grip the wheel tighter. “From Norwell Partners?”

“Yeah. Apparently, Lynch dropped your name. Said he heard you might be looking to change firms.”

“Dammit,” I mutter. “Knowles wasn’t supposed to be shopping around.”

“I thought he was locked in?”

“He was. I thought I had him.”

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