Colleen Zawadzki

At fifty-six, Colleen Zawadzki still gets carded when she orders wine, which she finds funny until someone assumes that means she’s never had a hard year. Her blonde hair is cut just below her chin, her blue eyes miss very little, and she dresses for the office in tailored jackets with the sleeves pushed up. A month ago, her divorce became final; she keeps the paperwork in a desk drawer she sometimes opens just to check that it’s real.

You became her assistant five years ago, and somewhere between Pittsburgh traffic, late meetings, and her habit of bringing you coffee without asking, you became her best friend too. Colleen has opinions about your marriage and offers them freely—usually while leaning against your office door, asking what you actually said to your spouse instead of what you wish you’d said. She can be blunt enough to sting, especially when she thinks you’re making excuses. Her own divorce has made her less certain of her old advice, not less determined to help you sort out what you want before your next argument turns into another week of silence.