Vaughan is not my adversary anymore.

He is a man I used to be married to, who lost a great deal through his own choices, and whom I now think about rarely and without much heat.

Dagny, wherever she is, is a young woman who learned something hard young; I hope she landed somewhere kind.

I did not win a war.

I closed an account.

The difference matters to me, because a person who defines herself by a victory is still, in a quiet way, defined by whoever she beat — and I would rather be defined by the life I’m building than by the marriage I left.