In the weeks after the divorce he began reaching for me again.

First the light texts — have you eaten today? Then the late-night calls — I just wanted to hear your voice. Finally, one rainy evening, he came to the estate itself, and my brother went out to the porch to meet him.

“Cordelia doesn’t want to see you, Spencer.” “She’s still my wife.” “Not anymore.” And that, my brother told me later, left Spencer standing in the rain with nothing left to say.

Meanwhile Bianca, oblivious, was busy planning their enormous society wedding, and posting to her followers: In the end, true love always wins.