The number struck harder than any single message. Six months of deception carried out beneath the same roof, across the same dinner table, beside the same sleeping dog.
“I want a divorce,” Diana said.
Anthony’s eyes widened. “Diana, please, we can fix this.”
“There is nothing left to fix.”
In the weeks that followed, Diana moved through the logistical dismantling of her marriage with a composure that surprised even her closest friends. She hired an attorney, Janet Morris, divided finances, and began reconstructing her independence with clinical precision. Pain remained, but it no longer dictated her decisions. Diana refused to beg, refused to negotiate, refused to participate in Anthony’s sudden desperation.
The divorce finalized quickly, though Anthony’s collapse did not. Reports filtered through mutual acquaintances. Excessive drinking. Missed work. Emotional volatility. Diana listened politely, then redirected her attention to the one domain where control still felt attainable.
Work.