The Letter in My Purse
Later that evening, after Leo had gone up to his room, I walked out onto the little balcony and stood looking down at the quiet, sunlit street, at the ordinary neighborhood that was now our home.
I took stock, the way you do when a long storm has finally passed.
I had lost a marriage of eleven years.
I had lost the grand house and the comfortable, cushioned life I had once believed was mine, the life I had arranged myself around for over a decade.
But standing there in the evening light, I understood how completely I had come out ahead, because of everything I had gained in exchange.
I had gained my independence, and my own salary, and work that was mine.