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Bella stood before her mirror as she dressed. “I don’t know why you’re complaining. It’s your fault after all.”

Grant sat on their bed with his head in his hands. “Can’t we do something else, Bella?”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because this is stupid!” he exclaimed.

“Really? So you’d rather I call my lawyer and tell him to proceed with the divorce?”

“No!” he exclaimed.

“Then we proceed.”

Bella slipped on a maroon dress that hugged her curves and accented her full, round breasts. “Must you wear that?” asked Grant.

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