The suite at the Ritz-Carlton smelled of lavender and expensive red wine. Andrew stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, wearing a plush white robe. He swirled the liquid in his glass, looking down at the city.

Erlene sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. She was staring at her phone. Her mother had sent twelve texts in the last ten minutes.

He agreed to sign!

Thank God!

We are free of that dead weight!

Erlene should have felt relieved. But she felt a strange, gnawing emptiness in her stomach.

Andrew walked over. He sat next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. "What's wrong, babe? You look sad."

Erlene forced a smile. "Ephram... he agreed to sign the papers."

Andrew's eyes lit up for a fraction of a second, a flash of greed he quickly masked. "That's great news. We can finally be together properly."

He leaned in and kissed her neck. His stubble grazed her skin.

Erlene flinched. A memory of Ephram standing in the rain, soaked and shivering, flashed in her mind.

She turned her head away. Andrew's lips landed on her hair.

He pulled back, his expression tightening. "What is it?"

"His grandmother died tonight, Andrew," Erlene whispered. "I feel... wrong. Doing this tonight."

Andrew sighed. He put on a face of practiced sympathy. "You're too good, Erlene. That's why I love you. But he wasted three years of your life."

He took her hand. "Remember? If I hadn't gotten sick three years ago, we would have been married already."

The guilt washed over Erlene. Andrew had fought a terrible illness alone so he wouldn't be a burden to her. He was a hero.

"You're right," she said, touching his cheek. "I won't let you go again."

Andrew smiled and pushed her gently back onto the pillows. He moved to climb on top of her.

Erlene put her hands on his chest. "Andrew, wait. Technically... I'm still married. Until the papers are filed." It was an easy excuse. The truth was, after three years of a marriage that felt more like a roommate agreement, the act of physical betrayal felt jarring. Ephram had always kept his distance, blaming a trauma he never explained, and a part of her had grown numb.

Andrew froze. A vein in his temple twitched.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I understand. You have principles. I respect that."

"Thank you," Erlene said, relief flooding her voice. "Once it's done, I'm all yours."

Andrew stood up and walked to the minibar to pour more wine. His back was to her. His face twisted into a snarl.

His phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at it.

Interest rate went up, Mr. Hanson. If you don't pay this week, we visit the rich girlfriend.

Andrew deleted the message. He composed his face and turned back around, smiling.

"To our future," he said, raising his glass.

Erlene clinked her glass against his. She drank the wine, oblivious to the fact that she was toasting her own destruction.

Down on the street, a beat-up Honda Civic drove past the hotel entrance, heading toward the slums.

The apartment smelled like stale air and old dust. Ephram didn't turn on the lights. The streetlamp outside cast long, distorted shadows across the living room.

He looked at the wall. Their wedding photo hung there in a cheap plastic frame. Erlene's smile in the photo didn't reach her eyes.

Ephram walked over, took the frame off the nail, and dropped it into the trash can. The glass shattered with a loud crack.

He grabbed a duffel bag. He threw in two shirts, his toothbrush, and a small wooden box containing his mother's ring. That was it. Three years of marriage, packed in thirty seconds.

The divorce papers sat on the kitchen table.

The front door lock clicked. The handle turned.

Erlene walked in. She was alone. She flipped the light switch.

She stopped when she saw Ephram zipping up the bag. She blinked, surprised. She hadn't expected him to be so efficient.

"You're... leaving already?" she asked. Her voice was hesitant.

Ephram didn't look at her. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Erlene walked to the table. She saw the signature on the papers. Her fingers traced the ink. It was dry.

"I'm sorry... about your grandmother," she said.

Ephram slung the bag over his shoulder. He turned to face her. His eyes were blank. "You don't get to talk about her."

Erlene flinched. Defensiveness flared in her chest. "I didn't want it to be like this! You just... you never tried, Ephram! I'm tired of being poor! I'm tired of counting coupons!"

Ephram watched her. He didn't yell back. He just watched her justify her betrayal.

"Andrew can give me a future," she shouted, her voice rising to a screech. "What can you give me? More bills?"

Ephram walked to the door. "I hope you're right."

"Where are you going?" Erlene asked, panic edging into her voice. "You don't have anywhere to go."

She fumbled in her purse. She pulled out a wad of cash-money Andrew had given her, claiming it was pocket change. It was actually a cash advance from a maxed-out credit card.

"Here," she said, holding it out. "Take it. Don't sleep on the street. It makes me look bad."

Ephram looked at the money. He looked at her face.

He walked past her. His shoulder brushed hers, hard. He didn't take the money.

Erlene's hand dropped. The bills fluttered to the dirty linoleum floor.

"Save it," Ephram said without turning around. "You're going to need it to pay for the regret."

The door slammed shut.

Erlene stood in the silence. She looked at the closed door. She felt a sudden, sharp pang in her chest. She knelt down to pick up the money, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"I made the right choice," she whispered to the empty room. "People have to move up."

Erlene picked up the last twenty-dollar bill. She walked to the trash can to throw away a tissue and saw the wedding photo facing up through the broken glass.

Ephram looked young in the picture. He was wearing a suit that didn't fit right, but his eyes were locked on her. He looked like he was the luckiest man in the world.

She remembered that day. He had bought her a ring. It wasn't big. The diamond was barely visible. But he had worked two jobs for six months to buy it.

She touched her left ring finger. It was bare. She had taken the ring off weeks ago and thrown it in the junk drawer.

The doorbell rang.

Erlene shoved the photo deeper into the trash. She smoothed her hair and opened the door.

Andrew stood there holding a takeout bag from a Thai restaurant. "I figured you hadn't eaten. I got your favorite."

He walked in like he owned the place.

"Thanks, babe," Erlene said, trying to push away the memory of the photo.

Andrew looked around. "The loser is gone?"

"Yeah. Just left. Signed everything."

Andrew walked to the table and picked up the papers. He whistled. "Clean break. No assets. Smart man."

He opened the junk drawer, pretending to look for a fork. He rummaged around until his fingers closed over the small velvet box.

He pulled out the ring. He held it up to the light, squinting. "God, look at this thing. It's microscopic. How did you wear this embarrassment for three years?"

Erlene blushed. "We didn't have money."

Andrew tossed the ring in the air and caught it. "Throw it out. It's trash. It doesn't suit a woman of your class."

Erlene hesitated. "Okay. Throw it out."

Andrew smiled. He didn't throw it in the trash. He slipped it into his pocket. Even a cheap diamond was worth a hundred bucks at the pawn shop down the street.

"Tomorrow, we go shopping," Andrew said. "A real ring. A Hanson ring."

"Really?" Erlene's eyes widened.

"Of course." Andrew kissed her forehead. "My wife deserves the best."

Erlene smiled, the doubt vanishing.

Outside, in the dark parking lot, Ephram sat in his car. He watched the silhouette of the two figures in the lighted window of his old apartment.

He saw them embrace.

He didn't feel angry anymore. He felt detached. Like he was watching a movie about someone else's life.

He started the car. The Honda rattled.

He reached over to the passenger seat. He picked up the black glasses. He looked at them for a moment, then tossed them onto the dashboard.

He put the car in gear. He drove out of the complex, turning right, away from the city center, toward the hills. Toward the iron gates of the George Estate.