“Congratulations, kid! Your wife’s locked up for ten years—now the apartment’s ours!” Champagne flowed freely as my husband and mother-in-law toasted my arrest…

Sarah checked the clock. Seven-fifteen. She still had time to decide if she wanted to face her husband.

The man who didn’t believe in her innocence. Who never visited her in prison. Who brought another woman into their home.

But, she thought, he didn’t divorce me. Maybe he had doubts. Cozy Corner Café was two blocks from Emily’s. Sarah walked slowly, still unsure if she was doing the right thing. Curiosity and a need to close this chapter won out. Michael sat at a corner table, nervously tapping his coffee cup.

He hadn’t changed much in seven years. Same light brown hair, neatly trimmed, same thin-rimmed glasses. Only more lines around his eyes and a hunted look in his gaze.

He saw her, and his face flickered—joy or fear, she couldn’t tell. “Sarah,” he breathed, standing, “you came.” She sat across from him silently, resting her hands on the table. She’d removed her wedding ring in prison and hadn’t put it back on. Michael noticed, his eyes lingering on her bare finger. “Mom died,” he said bluntly. “Last night. Heart attack.” “I know,” Sarah replied, offering no condolences.

He winced, as if in pain. “No need to pretend. I know you were at her place, and I know what she told you.” “How?” Sarah tensed. “She called me right after you left. Hysterical, babbling about poison, Dad, some evidence you found.” Sarah silently showed him the purple nail. “My God,” Michael whispered, covering his face, “so it’s true? All this time, it was her?” “Yes,” Sarah said simply. “All this time, it was her. And I served seven years for her crime.” “Why didn’t you call me?” Hurt crept into his voice. “I’d have come. Helped.” “Helped?” Sarah gave a bitter laugh. “How’d you help me all these years? Not one visit, Michael. Not one. Just a few pathetic letters the first year, then nothing.”

“I couldn’t,” he looked down. “I didn’t know what to say. How to face you.” “Because you believed I killed your dad?” “No,” he snapped, meeting her eyes. “Well… maybe at first. Mom was so convincing. But then I had doubts. Too many inconsistencies. I hired a private investigator. He dug but found nothing. Then…” “Then you met Ashley,” Sarah finished. Michael flushed. “It’s not what you think. We met at work. She offered to… move in. I was lonely. Drinking too much.” “Spare me the details,” Sarah raised a hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re free, Michael. I’m filing for divorce.”

“What if I don’t want a divorce?” he asked softly. Sarah stared at him, incredulous. His eyes held a desperate hope, like a drowning man grasping at straws. “You’re not serious,” she shook her head. “Seven years, Michael. You’ve got another woman, another life. And so do I.” “I still love you,” his voice cracked. “Always have. Even when I doubted. Even when I chickened out.” He faltered. Sarah studied him. Once, she’d known every line of his face, every nuance of his voice.

Now he was a stranger with the same features but a different core. “No, Michael,” she said firmly, “you don’t love me. You love a memory, the Sarah from seven years ago. She’s gone.” “Let me get to know you again,” he reached across the table, but she pulled back. “No,” she repeated. “Too late, too much pain. You chose your mom’s side when I needed you most. You didn’t believe me, didn’t visit, didn’t write.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, slumping. “A coward. Mom pushed me, said you wouldn’t get out early, that you needed time to confess. Then it was too late. Years passed, and the gap grew.” “And you found comfort with another woman.” He flushed again. “Ashley doesn’t mean anything. She was just… there when I was at my lowest. Mom brought her in, said she needed a job, and it just… happened.” “You’ve always been weak,” Sarah said wearily. “Doing what you’re told. First your dad, then your mom. You’re 40, Michael, and you still can’t make your own choices.” “That’s not fair,” he raised his voice, drawing glances from other patrons. “I tried to help. Hired lawyers, an investigator.” “Which I knew nothing about,” Sarah countered. “What good is help if I didn’t even know it existed?” Michael looked down. “You’re right. I should’ve been there. Fought for you openly. I failed, and I’m paying for it with loneliness and emptiness.”

“You’ve got Ashley.” “I kicked her out yesterday,” he said quietly. “Right after Mom’s call. Packed her stuff and told her to leave.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Just like that?” “She was never important,” he shrugged. “Convenient. Cooked, cleaned, didn’t ask questions. Once I knew you were innocent, that you were back, she was irrelevant.” His callousness made Sarah recoil. Had she really loved this man? Dreamed of a life with him? “The apartment,” she said suddenly. “I want to know about my share.” Michael perked up, glad for the topic shift. “It’s fine. You’re still registered and have full rights to live there. I… I cleared out your room. Everything’s as it was. Your books, your stuff.” “My stuff?” Sarah looked skeptical. “Ashley said all I had left was two jackets and a sweater. The rest was trashed.” “She lied,” Michael shook his head. “I packed your things in boxes and stored them in the attic. Didn’t throw out a thing, I swear.” Sarah considered this. She had no intention of living with Michael.

But she also wasn’t about to give up her legal claim to the apartment. Especially now, with her innocence out in the open. “Here’s the deal,” she said after a pause. “I’m moving back, but we’ll live separately, like roommates, until we sort out the property division.” “But we could try again,” Michael started. “No,” Sarah cut him off. “No ‘again.’ It’s over, Michael. You betrayed me when I needed you most. I’ll never forget or forgive that.”

He deflated, slumping further. “I get it. But I still hope someday you might…” “No,” Sarah interrupted. “I won’t. Don’t ask.” They finished their coffee in heavy silence. Michael tried to restart the conversation, but Sarah gave short answers. Finally, he broke. “When are you coming back? To the apartment, I mean.” “Tomorrow,” Sarah said decisively. “I’ll stop by in the afternoon, check things out. Try to stay out of my way for a while.” Michael nodded silently, staring into his empty cup…