Around eight, she finally listened to the voicemail.
“Nia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come inside. I shouldn’t have let any of this happen. I’m going to give you space. I hope you and Caleb figure out whatever you need to figure out.”
Nia deleted it.
Then she became angry.
At Isaiah.
At Caleb.
At herself.
Mostly herself.
She walked through the house and saw evidence of Caleb everywhere.
His coffee mug.
His shoes near the garage.
A jacket over the back of a dining chair.
A photograph from their honeymoon.
For months, Nia had focused on what Caleb failed to give her.
She had not considered what his absence would actually feel like.
By midnight, she was desperate to hear his voice.
She typed:
I know you asked me not to call. I am so sorry. I will answer every question. I will do anything to repair this. Please just tell me you’re okay.
Caleb read it.
He did not respond.
The next morning, Caleb woke after less than two hours of sleep.
He called his office.
“I’m taking personal leave.”
His boss did not ask questions.
Then Caleb called an attorney.
That decision surprised even him.
He wasn’t certain he wanted a divorce.
But for the first time since discovering the affair, he wanted information instead of emotion.
The attorney, a woman named Diane Harris, met him that afternoon.
She listened carefully.
Then she asked a series of questions Caleb had not considered.
Did they own the house jointly?
Yes.
Separate bank accounts?
One joint household account and two personal accounts.
Children?
No.
Significant debt?
Mortgage and two vehicles.
Prenuptial agreement?
No.
Caleb stared at the desk.
“I don’t even know whether I’m filing.”
“You don’t have to know today,” Diane said.
“Then why am I here?”
“So emotion doesn’t force you to make uninformed decisions.”
Those words stayed with him.
Diane told Caleb something else.
“Don’t punish her financially. Don’t empty accounts. Don’t destroy property. Don’t put anything angry in writing.”
Caleb almost smiled.
“You’ve had that conversation before.”
“Many times.”
“I’m not interested in revenge.”
Diane watched him.
“You might be tomorrow.”
Caleb left with a folder he never expected to hold.
For the next five days, he did not return home.
Nia sent one message every morning and one every evening.
Caleb replied only once.
I need space. Please respect that.
She did.
On Friday, Isaiah called Caleb.
Caleb stared at the name for a long time.
Then answered.
“What?”
Isaiah’s voice was cautious.
“I know you don’t want to hear from me.”
“You’re right.”
“I need to say something once. Then you never have to hear from me again.”
Caleb nearly hung up.
Instead, he waited.
Isaiah continued.
“What I did was wrong.”
Caleb laughed without humor.
“If this is your apology tour, save it.”
“It’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m not going to blame Nia.”
Caleb became quiet.
“She didn’t trick me. I knew she was married.”
“Congratulations on taking responsibility.”
“I deserve that.”
Isaiah paused.
“But you should know something.”
Caleb’s expression tightened.
“What?”
“She talked about you constantly.”
Caleb gripped the phone.