By the time the final divorce decree arrived in the mail, Serena’s business was thriving and her shoulder had healed into a faint, silvery scar. She stood in her new office, looking at the brass nameplate she had ordered for the door, and felt a sense of pride that no one could take away.
Wesley occasionally sent messages asking for forgiveness or a chance to explain his side of the story, but Serena never responded. She didn’t need his explanations or his apologies because the truth was written in the deed of her house and the peace of her new life.
One evening, Serena sat on her porch with a cup of tea, watching the sunset over Oakhaven Ridge. The neighborhood was quiet, the joggers were gone, and the only sound was the rustle of the leaves in the ancient oak trees that lined the street.
She thought about the woman she had been on that cold morning with the bandage under her blouse, and she felt a surge of gratitude for her own strength. She had lost a husband and a family, but she had gained herself, and that was a trade she would make every single time.
THE END.