The next morning Gordon began emailing. The first message was angry, the second apologetic, the third blamed everything on Rita, and by the fourth he was promising to change if I withdrew the petition.

I forwarded every email to my attorney and never replied. Rita wrote too, a much longer message, claiming she hadn’t realized how serious my condition was and would never have gone shopping if she’d understood.

It wasn’t true. I had explained it to her myself. She had listened. She had simply chosen not to care.

A few days later, Gordon asked through our attorneys whether he could move back in while the divorce was pending. I declined. On my lawyer’s advice, we arranged a supervised time for him to collect the rest of his belongings, with a neutral third party present.

Everything stayed calm and orderly. Rita never set foot in my home again.

The divorce itself unfolded over several months — financial disclosures, attorney conferences, negotiations, endless paperwork. Real life isn’t resolved as quickly as dramatic moments suggest.