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I can’t just leave her here.

After the paperwork is signed and the modest adoption fee is paid, Diane and I pack Fifi into the car.

I’m still getting used to driving this little hatchback. Finn offered to replace the BMW convertible I used to have, but I don’t need that anymore. I don’t need any of it.

Diane peers into the carrier on the back seat and gives me a tight, careful smile. She’s been my rock this past year, a steady neighbor just a few houses down who’s helped hold me together through the separation.

She doesn’t know about Maverick’s wealth. I’ve seen Whitmore Supplements in her kitchen, but she’s never connected the dots, and I’ve never told her. Money changes how people look at you and I didn’t want her to see me differently. But the longer I’ve known her, the more I believe she wouldn’t. Still, there’s no graceful way to slip “by the way, my ex is a billionaire” into casual conversation.

“Fifi,” Diane says, nodding like she’s trying to accept the inevitable.

I can tell she thinks I’ve lost my mind.

I reach back and slip my fingers through the bars of the carrier. A small, warm tongue brushes my fingertip.

“She’s perfect,” I say.

“She’s peeing in her carrier,” Diane says flatly.

I let out a soft laugh. “It did say she has a nervous bladder. Poor thing’s probably terrified.” I start the car and angle the rearview mirror so I can keep an eye on her. “It’s only ten minutes home, sweetheart. We’ll get you cleaned up the second we walk through the door.”

“I knew you would do this. That bleeding heart of yours is going to get you in trouble one day, Carmen.” Diane shakes her head. “How are you going to manage round-the-clock care with school and everything?”

“The kid at the shelter said she sleeps twenty hours a day. I’ve already got the camera to watch her when I’m out and I don’t really go out besides that.”

I start the car and take off home, driving a little more careful than usual so it doesn’t spook Fifi.

“Speaking of never going out,” Diane says, her eyes lighting up, “I’m up for the Practice Administrator position at the clinic. It’s a pretty big step up for me. I was hoping you’d come out for a drink tonight to celebrate? Nothing’s set in stone yet, but still…”

She’s been talking about this promotion for ages. I don’t really go out these days. There was a time when my entire life revolved around being social—galas, charity luncheons, hosting elaborate dinners. But after I left Maverick, most of my so-called friends vanished. Turns out their loyalty had always been tied to his money and status, not to me.

I’ve probably gone too far in the other direction and become something of a hermit. Diane’s been trying to coax me back into the world for months now. How am I supposed to say no when she looks this excited?

“I’d love to,” I say, “but should I leave Fifi alone on her first night?”

“You said yourself she sleeps most of the day. And you have the camera. Two hours, tops?”

“Fine,” I say. “But if she wakes up scared, we come straight home.”

“Deal.”

We pull into my driveway, and Diane immediately brightens when she spots Rod’s truck parked in front of their house. She perks up, practically glowing, and rushes straight home. Thirty-something years together and they still genuinely like each other—it never fails to make me smile.

“See you tonight!” she calls over her shoulder with a cheerful wave.

I watch her go, feeling that familiar mix of warmth and quiet envy. They have the kind of marriage most people only pretend to have. The kind I used to pretend I had, until I couldn’t pretend anymore.

On paper, I had everything a woman could want: money, status, a mansion that was featured in magazines. But I couldn’t do it anymore. Days would pass without Maverick even speaking to me. I’d begged him to work on our marriage, to see me again, to stop treating me like I was invisible.

But he just told me I had everything a woman could possibly need. Wasn’t that enough?

It wasn’t.

He wasn’t supportive, either. I’d been thinking about earning my GED for years. Not finishing high school was a regret that had lingered for far too long. Our marriage already had so many fractures, but the day I told him I wanted to go for it, that was the one that cut especially deep.

He laughed at me.

Not because he thought it was pointless. He laughed because he didn’t believe I could do it.