Dear Husband, I want this marriage no more
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"If you walk out that door," I said calmly, "consider this marriage over!"
"Anna." He gasped, eyes frantic as they searched mine. But my resolve was unwavering, and I folded my arms across my chest. "You don't mean this. I will only be gone for a day; get things done, and I will come back to you."
I shook my head, because he wasn't understanding. "If you leave this place, you can as well get a lawyer because the next time you meet me will be in court." I repeated slowly, firmly, staring at him straight in the eye so he knew I wasn't bluffing. "It is your choice."
A moment passed between us, the air tensed and heavy. I held my breath, waiting for his response.
But I should have known better because this was Davy and there was no hesitation in those eyes when he turned his back on me and left.
***
There was one thing Anna Sinclair hated more than the color yellow: her husband's profession.
And there was one thing Davy Hale Walton loved more than his wife: that same profession.
But how will they coexist?
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