Chapter 7: New Ground

"Welcome back, Dr. Diana." They all echoed in excitation.

Diana stood still for a moment, almost unsure of how to respond. The sound of her name spoken with respect, spoken with warmth, washed over her in a way she had not felt in years.

She looked from one familiar face to another, taking them in properly.

These were people who knew her before she became Mrs. Golding. People who knew her mind, her work, her worth.

The fluorescent lights of the research center hummed softly overhead, casting a clean, clinical glow across the polished floors.

Diana inhaled deeply, letting the familiar atmosphere settle into her lungs like an old friend returning home.

"Diana, you're finally back."

Dr. Linda O'Neil - the director of the research lab, stepped forward, her face bright with genuine happiness.

She opened her arms and pulled Diana into a tight hug, the kind that spoke of missed years and unfinished conversation.

Diana closed her eyes briefly as she returned the hug. For a second, she allowed herself to simply feel it.

The warmth. The familiarity. The reminder that she had once belonged somewhere.

"Thank you, Director," Diana said when they finally released her. Her voice was calm, steady. "It's been too long."

Linda studied her face closely, her smile softening. "You look good," she said honestly. "Stronger."

There was something different in Diana's eyes now; a quiet steel that hadn't been there before. The kind of strength that came not from never breaking, but from putting oneself back together piece by careful piece.

Diana smiled faintly but said nothing.

Linda sighed and shook her head. "You know," she said, lowering her voice slightly as they began to walk towards the entrance, "if you hadn't left for marriage, you'd be running this place by now."

The words landed quietly, but they cut deep.

Diana felt it instantly. A sharp stab right in her chest.

The years saxrificed, building a marriage she so much believed in only to be treated like trash from day one mo matter how much she tried to make it better.

She didn't answer.

She couldn't.

Her lips pressed together as she nodded once, slowly, her eyes fixed ahead.

The corridor stretched before them, the white walls were decorated with framed certifications and photographs of research teams from years past.

Somewhere in those photographs was a younger Diana, ambitious and bright-eyed, believing the world was hers to conquer.

Linda noticed the change immediately and stopped walking.

"Oh, Diana," she murmured.

She reached out and squeezed Diana's arm gently. "Thank God you're back," she said with relief. "I honestly thought you'd be locked in that house forever."

Diana let out a quiet breath. "Well," she said, her tone even, "I'm getting a divorce."

Linda froze.

Her mouth fell open slightly, shock written clearly on her face. "What?"

"I filed the papers," Diana continued, meeting her eyes steadily. "In a month, I'll be free."

The other doctors exchanged looks. One of them gasped audibly. Another shook her head in disbelief.

The hallway seemed to grow too quiet, as if the building itself was holding its breath.

"Divorced?"

The voice came from behind them.

They all turned at once.

A tall man stood a few steps away, watching them with interest. He was dressed neatly in a charcoal suit, his presence commanding without effort.

In his hand was a bouquet of fresh flowers, white lilies mixed with pale pink roses, wrapped in delicate paper.

Dr. Merlin Eastwood.

The owner of Eastwood Medical Research Center.

He walked closer, his eyes resting on Diana.

For a moment, he simply looked at her, as though confirming something to himself.

Then he smiled—a genuine smile that reached his eyes and softened the sharp angles of his professional demeanor.

Diana's face lit up instantly.

Joy replaced the quiet heaviness in her eyes.

"I'd say congratulations and welcome back, Diana."

Diana chuckled softly, warmth spreading through her chest as she met his gaze. "Merlin," she said, smiling. "It's been a while."

He extended the flowers toward her. "These are for you. For your return."

She accepted them carefully, bringing them close to her face. The sweet fragrance wrapped around her senses, delicate and fresh. "Thank you. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he replied simply. "You've been missed around here."

********

The next day, Diana drove back to Golding's mansion.

The car slowed as it approached the familiar gates. The house stood exactly the same; large, quiet, imposing.

From the outside, nothing suggested that a life had cracked open inside its walls.

The manicured lawn stretched pristinely on either side of the driveway, the hedges trimmed to mathematical precision.

Everything looked perfect. Everything looked hollow.

Diana parked and stepped out.

She did not feel fear. She did not feel anger. What she felt was distance. Emotional distance. Like she was returning to a place she had once lived in, not a place that belonged to her anymore.

She wasn't there for explanations.

She wasn't there to argue.

Her research materials. Her notebooks. Her personal files. Those were the only things still worth taking from that house.

She walked up to the door and placed her hand on the knob. For a moment, she paused and sighed, steadying herself.

Then she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The interior was exactly as she remembered—expensive, elegant, and utterly cold. The marble floors gleamed beneath her feet.

In her room, Selena sat on her bed with her iPad resting on her knees. The screen glowed brightly as her fingers moved across it, scrolling through colorful videos that chimed and chirped with manufactured cheer.

When she heard the door open downstairs, she lifted her head quickly.

"Daddy?" she called out excitedly.

She jumped off the bed and ran to the door, pulling it open. Her face was lit with expectation, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Then her eyes fell on Diana.

The excitement vanished.

Her expression changed instantly, replaced with clear disdain. The light in her face extinguished as if someone had flipped a switch.

"Mommy," Selena said flatly, rolling her eyes.

Diana noticed it immediately. The coldness. The rejection. It stung, but she had learned to absorb such wounds without flinching.

"Who were you expecting?" she asked gently.

Selena didn't answer.

She turned away without a word, dropped the iPad back onto the bed, and leaned against the headboard, staring at the opposite wall.

Her body language was stiff, closed. Her small shoulders were tense, her jaw set in stubborn defiance.

Diana stood there for a second, watching her daughter. Her heart ached with a particular kind of grief, the grief of being a stranger to your own child.

She walked closer and picked up the iPad from the bed. "Lena," she said softly, "you shouldn't watch the iPad for so long. It's bad for your eyes."

She turned and began walking towards the door, intending to leave with it.

Selena shot up from the bed.

"Miss Lauren lets me!"

The words came out loud, sharp, filled with rage far too heavy for an eight-year-old. Her small face twisted with anger, her eyes burning with something ugly and learned.

"You're always ruining everything!"

Diana froze.

Before she could turn around fully, Selena rushed forward, snatched the iPad from her hand violently, and shoved her hard.

Diana lost her balance.

Her foot slipped on the top step.

She screamed as she fell backwards, tumbling down the stairs. Her body hit each step with sickening thuds.

Pain exploded through her shoulder, her hip, her head. The world spun violently.

"Get out! I don't want to hear you anymore!" Selena burst out.

She slammed the bedroom door shut with all her strength.

The sound echoed through the empty house like a gunshotguns.