Their divorce never finalized. Neither did their feelings.
The discovery that I was still legally married — years after I thought my divorce was final — was supposed to be the worst thing to happen to me this fall.
It wasn’t.
Because apparently the state of Vermont believes in closure. And no regrets. And court-ordered thirty-day reconciliation efforts. So now, in order to fast-track my divorce from Bennett Walker—my high school sweetheart and the man who walked out on our marriage six years ago—I’m being forced back to the small town we grew up in to spend an entire month proving our relationship isn’t worth saving.
A situation Ben annoyingly finds amusing.
Which is why I plan to make this the most memorable, insufferable, torturous thirty days of his life. As a prank-loving aficionado, I have countless ideas about how to drive Ben crazy while keeping myself focused on the goal: finalizing our divorce.
With my life in New York and a career I absolutely love, not even deeply embedded habits and old feelings can threaten my resolve.
I’m resolved.
So resolved.
Absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent resolved. And if I keep saying it, maybe this time around, I’ll be capable of resisting the fall.
