Thanksgiving comes and goes, and I spend most of the holiday in the office.

Since Nathan has put me on this project, I’ve run into one roadblock after another, and I’m so strung out from the red tape and delays that I want to rip my hair out.

Imogen must spend her holiday with her family, or somewhere else, because she doesn’t invite me nor tell me where she’s going. All I know is that about two days after we had mind-blowing, this-changes-everything sex, she left the house and hasn’t returned for a week.

The average lawyer I hired once I was given notice by the superior Weston family team of lawyers told me yesterday that he believes they’ll file the divorce proceedings this week. After what happened with the woman I was still legally married to, I couldn’t believe she was going through with this. Clearly, we both still loved each other. She was just running scared.

My dick begins to twitch under my desk as I remember exactly what happened between us. We’d always had a fantastic sex life, but between the amount of time that had gone by since we’d made love, and Imogen insisting to keep her tank top on … something had been different. Fuck, of course it had been sexy and ridiculously hot … but there was something I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Fuck, I hate that guy.” Hollis throws a stack of folders on his desk and slumps into his chair across from mine, sighing.

“What did asshat do now?” I roll my eyes as I type up an email to the contractors on the devil project I was assigned to.

“He wants to change the entire design of the oceanfront property in Dennis, and we’re already halfway into our timeline! No one else wants to change it, not even the homeowners. But of course, dickwad thinks he knows better than anyone.”

I look up expecting to see smoke coming out of Hollis’ ears. “Shit, I’m sorry, man. He blows. I’d help, but he already has me on this other screwed up project … which he himself screwed up.”

“Is it time to retire yet?” Hollis chuckles sardonically. “Oh, also, Nathan asked me some weird question about Imogen.”

The hair on the back of neck goes up. “Oh, yeah, what’s he prying about now?”

“Said he saw her in Vail last week, without her wedding ring?”

I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s not only asking for our nosy boss. Fuck … I had been keeping up my end of our deal and not discussing the fact that we were splitting up. Imogen needed this cover up to gain the position that had been unfairly taken away from her. No matter what was happening between us, I would do that for her. Turns out, she was the one getting sloppy, and it was shit luck that the one person who had noticed was my douchebag of a boss.

“Oh, she was probably just skiing and left it in her room.” I try to sound nonchalant.

Hollis doesn’t look convinced. “Okay, man … it’s just, you’ve been working some pretty late nights. I’m not trying to pry, but if you want to talk about anything …”

I study him. Can I trust him? We’ve gone for the occasional beer and I’ve met a girlfriend or two of his, but we’ve never connected on a deeper level.

And just as I’m about to take a chance and put my faith in someone, my life gets that much crappier.

“I’m looking for a Theo Walsh?” A delivery man walks into the office and announces his presence to the forty plus employees sitting in our pit.

People look around, and I cautiously stand, not knowing what all of this is about. Maybe a client had something delivered, or samples accidentally got sent here instead of the warehouse.

“Yes, that’s me.” I walk over to him.

It’s then that my fate is sealed. “You’ve been served.”

Turns out those divorce papers weren’t coming tomorrow. They were already here.

As he leaves, a huff of breath escapes my lungs. The proverbial shoe has dropped, right onto my heart and it’s crushing the organ under its heel. I’ve been waiting for this, and now that it’s done, I both want to drop to my knees in pitiful sadness and rip the documents in my hand straight in two.

“Well, well, looks like all isn’t right in Weston paradise.” Toxell comes strolling out of his office, over to me, and slaps a hand on my shoulder. “So sorry, buddy, but I think we all knew from day one that she was way out of your league.”

The anguish I felt a split second ago and my wife’s actions turns on a dime. Into pure rage.

“Get your fucking hand off of me before I drop you,” I growl.

Turning so I can see his face, and the rest of my coworkers, I stare my boss down with a menacing snarl.

“Wha … what did you just say?” He laughs nervously. “Nothing to see here folks, just giving Theo the rest of the day. Clearly he needs to go home and sort his emotions out.”

Hollis stands, looking at me. Perhaps he can feel that I’m about to sucker punch this dipshit. “Theo, man, think.”

Just that one word, the one polite demand to put a stranglehold on my fury, has me backing away from Toxell. This is already the worst day of my life, I don’t need to exacerbate it with assault and battery charges.

But I can get my revenge. I can begin to live my life for me, especially if Imogen is clear in how she wants to live hers. I’d been planning to stay here until after the divorce was final, to save up a nest egg before I went back to Nantucket. But now, with such a public dis from my wife and this asshole chirping in my ear.

I calmly walk to my desk, gather the sparse amount of things I have on and in it, while every single person watches me. It only takes a minute or two, and then I’m walking back towards Nathan Toxell, toward the door.

“Consider this my notice. I quit.”

Walking out of that building for the last time, with my divorce papers in hand, has me feeling like I’m caught in a hurricane of emotions. And I’m just trying to navigate straight in the storm.