Chapter 6 - The New Normal
Three weeks passed in a blur of board meetings, strategic restructuring, and late nights signing contracts that actually bore my own signature.
The company had rebranded from Collins & Vale Consulting back to its original roots: Mara Collins Strategic Solutions. The transition was overwhelmingly well-received by our corporate clients, many of whom quietly admitted they had always found Nathan’s aggressive, sleazy sales tactics off-putting.
I spent my weekends reclaiming spaces in my life that Nathan had tainted. I hired a contractor to completely renovate our master bedroom—tearing out the custom walk-in closet he had designed, replacing the furniture, and painting the walls a calming, sophisticated shade of charcoal gray. The house felt lighter, cleaner, and entirely mine.
Legal proceedings moved swiftly. Nathan’s defense attorney tried to file an injunction to freeze company assets, but Marcus Sterling swatted it down in federal court within forty-eight hours, presenting the airtight audit trail of forgery and corporate fraud. Facing the very real prospect of a multi-year federal prison sentence for white-collar crime, Nathan’s legal team quickly pivoted toward a quiet, humiliating settlement.
On a rainy Thursday afternoon, my divorce lawyer, a sharp, formidable woman named Eleanor Vance, called me into her downtown office to sign the final papers.
"He agreed to all terms," Eleanor said, sliding a thick leather folder across her desk. "Zero alimony, complete forfeiture of any claim to the company shares, and he covers all legal fees associated with the corporate fraud investigation. In exchange, the district attorney has agreed to classify the matter as a civil corporate dispute rather than pressing immediate felony charges—though his career in this state is effectively over."
I picked up the heavy metal fountain pen my father had given me when I graduated business school. I opened the document to the signature page, turning directly to the line marked for my consent.
I signed my name cleanly, the bold loops of my M and C flowing effortlessly across the paper.
Real initials. Real signature. Real life.
"It’s done, Mara," Eleanor said softly, watching me with deep professional respect. "How do you feel?"
May you like
I capped the pen, leaning back in my chair with a profound sense of lightness settling deep into my bones.
"I feel like I just woke up from a very long, very exhausting dream," I said, smiling. "And for the first time in a decade, I’m wide awake."
