The usual disclaimer applies: All characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. Not mine, not making money.
The door to Anita's office was closed, a temporary reprieve against the unending hustle and bustle of the precinct. Normally she would be busy with the squad – but not right now. She sat silently, her eyes fixed on the document that had just been delivered to her.
She laughed at the obnoxious stick-on arrow that read "SIGN HERE." As if she didn't already know what Don wanted – her signature was the only thing that was stopping him from marrying his bimbo. Even in absentia, he had his ways of making her feel like a complete fool.
She wondered when it all went wrong. It seemed that one day she had a loving husband, the next he was cold and distant. At first, it hadn't occurred to her that he had someone on the side; why would it? She had loved him, trusted him. She thought that he really did have to work late and that the repeated hang-up calls were from some telemarketer.
How absolutely naïve of her.
During the many months of their separation, she'd prepared herself for what was to come next. She didn't think she would ever be at peace with it – she'd given more than twenty years of her life to that man – but she was closer to moving on. She buried herself in her work, and it made each day just a little bit easier.
But the divorce was not what hurt her most right now.
What hurt her most, she realized as she looked at the framed picture on the wall, was the comfort that she ached for but could no longer have. But it didn't come from Don. What she wouldn't give right now to be distracted from her troubles by a joke – and oh, there had been many about divorce – or to have a tweed-draped shoulder to cry on.
Don was gone. And so, horribly, was Lennie. It seemed to Anita that people were abandoning her left, right, and center.
No use in stalling now. She scrawled her signature on the page.
finis