People expected me to be triumphant, and I understand why.

It has the shape of a revenge story — the man they looked down on brings the whole proud house crashing down.

But it did not feel like revenge, and I was careful, in my own heart, not to let it become that.

I did not follow the news of their unraveling.

I did not call anyone to make sure they knew it was me.

When friends who’d heard pieces of it wanted to celebrate, I changed the subject.