«Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to give you two things, and then this ends forever.» I pulled an envelope from my jacket pocket. «First, this is a restraining order. Any further contact from you, direct or indirect, becomes a legal matter. That includes showing up at my work, my home, contacting my friends, or creating fake emergencies.»

Her hands were shaking as she took the envelope.

«Second, this is for you.» I handed her a wedding invitation. My name and my fiancée’s name were printed in elegant script, along with the September date and Portland venue information.

«I want you to understand that I’m not just moving on from you. I’ve already moved on. Completely. The life I’m building has nothing to do with the life we had together.»

She stared at the invitation like it might disappear if she blinked. «My fiancée knows about you. She knows about our marriage, our divorce, and your recent attempts to reconnect. She’s not threatened by you because she understands something you never did.»

«What’s that?»

«That when someone chooses you every day, instead of just keeping you around until something better comes along, it creates a completely different kind of relationship.»

Security had arrived and was waiting nearby, probably called by the receptionist when she realized what was happening. «These gentlemen are going to escort you to your car. If I see you again, if I hear from you again, or if you contact anyone in my life again, the next conversation will be with my lawyer and the police.»

She was crying harder now, clutching the restraining order and wedding invitation. «I know I made mistakes, but this feels cruel.»

«Cruel would be leading you on, letting you think there was hope, or pretending that three years of rebuilding my life could be erased with an apology. This is honest.»

«I love you!»

«I know you think you do, but love isn’t something you discover when you’re desperate. Love is what you nurture when you have choices.»

Security stepped forward, and she let them guide her toward the exit. At the door, she turned back one last time. «Will you ever forgive me?»

«I already have. That’s why I was able to move on completely.»

She left, and I never saw her again.

Six months later, I married my fiancée in a small ceremony surrounded by people who’d watched me build a new life from nothing. During my vows, I promised to choose her every day, not just when convenient. She promised the same thing back.

Sometimes, the best revenge isn’t getting even. It’s living so well that the people who discarded you realize they gave away something irreplaceable.

My ex-wife wanted a fresh start with no dead weight. I gave her exactly that and built something better than anything we’d ever had together. She got what she asked for. I got what I deserved. We were both finally free.