Betty Draper twiddled her fingers on the countertop of her immaculate kitchen table. She attempted to block out the incessant chewing of her two older children Sally and Bobby as they inhaled whatever was placed on their plates earlier that evening. Watching the kitchen clock, she counted the seconds till her husband came home.

"Where's Daddy?" Sally asked, swallowing her meatballs and pasta.

"What did I tell you about talking with your mouth full?" Betty corrected, irritated.

"Sorry," Sally mumbled, washing down her food with a glass of milk. "When's Daddy coming home?" she asked again.

"Soon," Betty said turning her back to the table. Closing her eyes, she recalled her rehearsed speech from earlier in the day. Flashing lights from outside the house vanquished any previous thoughts.

"Daddy's home!" Bobby cheered.

Betty's hands clenched into fists as her husband Don Draper came in through the front door. She watched as Sally and Bobby got reacquainted with their father, briefing him about their day.

"Go upstairs," Betty instructed to the kids, her long index finger pointing out of the kitchen.

Sally and Bobby walked out of the room, knowing better than to argue with their mother.

"Do you want me to go too?" Don asked tentatively. Things had been tense between Mr. and Mrs. Donald Draper since Thanksgiving. Don had been relegated to sleeping in the nursery, while baby Gene moved into the master bedroom with Betty.

Betty shook her head. "Please sit down." Betty took a deep breath. "I made an appointment with a divorce attorney and I suggest you do the same."
Don let out a barely audible gasp. He wasn't expecting her to go this far, to actually go through with the divorce. He knew she was angry at him: for lying about his identity, for cheating on her, for late nights away from home, and so much more. "Come on Betts, what are you doing seeing a lawyer?"

Betty folded her hands in front of her. "I want to be civilized about this. Please don't act surprised."

Don shot Betty a puzzled look. "You haven't been yourself. Maybe you need to see a doctor, a good one this time," he quickly added.

Betty let out a heavy sigh. "Because I'd have to be sick to want out of this?"

Don reached for her hand across the table. "You've had a tough couple weeks – we all have."

Betty stood up. "I've had a tough year," she retorted, in case he hadn't of noticed, or seemed to care. "I thought I should tell you rather than let you get a phone call at work."

Don stood up to her level. "Well forget it. I'm not gonna let you break up this family."

"I didn't break up this family!" Betty shouted back as Don reached for a beer from the fridge.

Don unscrewed the bottle cap with his hand. "What is this really about, Betts?"

"I don't want to be married to you anymore – I don't love you," she said simply, as if it were a matter of fact.

Don narrowed his eyes in disbelief, gulping his bottle of bear. "You don't mean that," Don insisted, convinced that she was saying it to get a rise out of him.

"It's better this way," Betty reasoned, folding her hands in a protective stance.

Don shook his head. "You want to break apart this family – how is that better?"

Betty reached for her wine glass. "Things can't stay the way they are; I refuse to live like this."

Don clutched his bottle. "Because you have it so terrible here," he quipped scornfully. "The big house in the suburbs, the money, the clothes…"

"The lies," Betty finished. "I'm living a lie with you here – I want a fresh start."

Don reached for another bottle from the fridge. "There's no reason that we can't have that here together."

Betty let out a heavy sigh. "Too much has happened. There becomes a point where you can't go back."

"And you get to be the one to decide that?" Don asked dubiously.

"After everything you've done to me over the past ten years – the secrets, the lies, and the affairs, I get to have a say in what happens next."

Don lifted the bottle to his mouth, licking the rim. "How would you start over?" Don challenged her. "You live off of everything I give you."

"The New York courts would make sure that the children and I are provided for. Consider it a payment for putting up with you for all of these years, raising your children – giving you the perfect home to come to."

Don nodded his head. "Where would you go?"

"Reno," Betty said primly. "I stay there for six weeks, file with the courts there – you don't contest."

Don clicked his tongue. "You've thought about this, before."

"I wouldn't have told you if I wasn't going to follow through," Betty said evenly.

"Clearly," Don mused. "Still, six weeks is a long time to wait for a divorce." Don walked to the fridge to get a second bottle of bear. "What if you could get the divorce sooner?" he asked.

"You'd be willing to file?" Betty asked.

"I might be," Don said slowly, a glint forming in his eye. "If we could come to an agreement."

"Don…" Betty said warily, "I am in no mood to bargain with you."

Don let out a small laugh. "And I am in the perfect mood to make a deal with you." The pieces were beginning to come together, like a spark of creativity at an advertising meeting.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked quietly, instinctively backing away from him.

"We stay married for one more month. One month and you'll get your divorce - with provisions for you and the children."

"I can get that from my lawyer and quicker!" Betty retorted.

Don chuckled, taking a sip from his beer. "The deal I am offering you is better than anything you'd get with your attorney."

Betty paused. "What are you hoping to get out of this?"

"One last Christmas as a family. Think of the children."

"I am always thinking of the children!" Betty shot back. "You're the one who's never here."

"Then you won't have to see very much of me," Don said evenly. "Do we have a deal?"

"You stay in the nursery," Betty stipulated. "Nothing about our relationship changes."

Don nodded his head in agreement.

"I still feel the same way about you," Betty said, attempting to drive her point home.

"I'm well aware," Don said soberly.

Betty shook her head. "I'm going to bed," she said coolly.

"Goodnight Birdie," Don called after her, listening to her footsteps. Don had exactly thirty days to convince Betty to stay, to give him one more chance. Don gulped down the rest of his drink; he had seen plenty of challenges before, but never one so close to home.