Chapter 12
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Returning to San Diego, I had an extra suitcase filled with my parents‘ worries and a handful of treasured possessions they’d rescued from my former life.
A coworker named Mia helped me find a small apartment near the beach, a one- bedroom with faded blue walls and windows that didn’t quite close properly. The rent was ridiculous for the size, but I could hear the ocean at night, and that sound
alone was worth every penny.
“It’s not much,” Mia had said apologetically as she helped me move in my two suitcases, “but it’s yours.”
Those words echoed in my head as I arranged my meager belongings. Mine. Not
ours. Not his. Mine.
Outside of work hours, I discovered the simple joys of solitude. I watched indie films at the local theater where they served wine in real glasses, took long walks on the beach, and slowly learned to enjoy my own company without feeling the
need to fill the silence.
I bought a plant–a small succulent that was supposedly impossible to kill. I
named it Freedom.
The ocean that once terrified me now brought a strange comfort when the waves. rolled over my feet. Each time I waded a little deeper, stayed a little longer, my victory over that old fear felt like a middle finger to everything that had once
controlled me.
Unknown numbers still called daily, peppered with text messages I never read. I finally changed my number entirely.
I only shared it with my parents, making them promise not to give it to Ethan if he
asked.
My mother hesitated on the phone, her voice dropping to that careful tone she used when she thought I was being unreasonable. “He might just be checking if
you’re okay.”
“He’s not, Mom,” I assured her. “And please, don’t let him disrupt your lives either.” “He looks terrible,” she admitted after a pause. “Lost weight. Hasn’t been
sleeping.”
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12:57 PM Mon 10 Mar
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“Not my problem,” I said, surprised by how easily the words came. Just three months ago, I would have dropped everything to rush to his side, to fix whatever was wrong. The realization of how far I’d come made me smile.
I suspected he was struggling to adjust to my sudden independence. After years of having g me at his beck and call, my absence must have been jarring.
But Kate would help him move on. His high school sweetheart finally back in his
arms.
The years of bitterness would heal, including his youthful heartbreak.
I’d just begun to believe that, to truly accept that this chapter of my life was closed, when two weeks later, the coffee shop door swung open, the little bell jingling cheerfully.
I was focused on the espresso machine, tamping down the grounds with practiced. precision, calling out a routine “Welcome to Tide & Grounds!”
A familiar voice responded from just feet away: “I’m here to start work.”
My head snapped up to meet Ethan’s gaze, my hand jerking on the portafilter, hot water and coffee grounds spilling across the counter and onto my apron.
I frantically mopped at the mess while he laughed, that same smug laugh I’d heard a thousand times when I’d made a mistake at dinner parties or fundraisers. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, leaning against the counter like he owned the place..
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