My wife left the night I lost my job, telling me, "I married a provider, not a problem" — three days later, she was pounding on my door, demanding, "How long were you planning to keep this from me?"

⸻

"Where did you get these?" I asked.

⸻

"My father plays golf with someone from your industry," she said. "He mentioned Halbrook's severance package was unusually generous. Then my father asked around a little more and found out you'd been quietly interviewing with Draymond for the past three weeks."

⸻

"I have been interviewing with Draymond," I admitted. "The recruiter reached out about six weeks ago. I had a second interview two weeks before the layoffs were even announced."

⸻

"And you never once mentioned any of this," Delphine said.

⸻

I sat down slowly on the arm of our couch, working through the full shape of what she was actually accusing me of.

⸻

"Delphine," I said, "you left this house twenty minutes after I told you I'd lost my job. You didn't ask a single follow-up question. You didn't ask about severance. You didn't ask whether I had any other prospects lined up. You packed a suitcase and drove to your parents' house before I'd finished my second sentence about the situation."