Chapter 3 · One-Way Ticket to a New Life

The night before I left, I stayed at my studio. My phone kept buzzing.

It wasn't James. He hadn't sent a single message. He was probably busy making arrangements for Lily's trip to Islehaven.

It was my mom. [Emily, are you packed for your honeymoon in two days? The sun in Azure Bay is brutal, so I picked up some sunscreen for you. Come pick it up when you have time.]

I hesitated for a moment before replying: [Mom, we canceled the honeymoon. I have a business trip to Lumiere.]

She called me right away. "What do you mean 'canceled'? You've been married for three years and finally managed to set up your honeymoon. How can you drop it out of the blue?"

"Mom, I really don't want to get into it right now. I'll explain when I get to Lumiere."

She was quiet for a few seconds. My mom was sharp. She could tell something was off. "Is something wrong with James?"

"No, it's work."

"Don't lie to me."

"Mom." I paused for a moment. "I've figured some things out, and I need a little time. Don't worry about me."

She didn't ask anything else. "Let me know when you get there."

"Okay." After hanging up, I checked the time. 1 a.m. already. Six hours to go until my 7 a.m. flight.

I switched my phone to silent and crashed on the studio couch, eyes shut.

My mind was crystal clear. No attachment, no sadness. A lightness, as I'd finally let go of a heavy weight.

It felt strange for the first time in three years.

At 5 a.m., my alarm went off. I splashed some water on my face, grabbed my suitcase, and headed out. I called a cab to the airport.

As I passed the Foster Family's building, I instinctively glanced up.

The 23rd floor was dark. He was probably still asleep. Or maybe he wasn't home. Maybe he'd already gone to Lily's place. I didn't care anymore.

At the airport, I breezed through security and waited for my flight. Everything went smoothly.

Five minutes before boarding, my phone buzzed. It was a message from James. [I'm on a business trip today. Grab something to eat on your own.]

That was all. No extra concern, not a little.

I stared at the message, sent back a quick reply: [Okay. Take care of yourself.] After sending it, I turned off my phone.

Outside the window, the sky was barely beginning to brighten. The plane taxied, picked up speed, and took off.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.

Goodbye, James. I hoped you and your childhood sweetheart would enjoy Islehaven. By the time you got back, this marriage would be over.

*****

When I landed in Lumiere, it was 3 p.m. local time.

Henry was there to pick me up. He stood at the arrivals exit, tall and lean, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, holding up a sign that read: [E.L., our little boss, welcome home.]

I almost burst out laughing.

Henry spotted me and rushed over, grabbed my suitcase. "Hey, you look thinner."

"Skip the chit-chat. Take me straight to the studio," I said.

Henry pushed up his glasses. "Not going to rest up for the jet lag first?"

"Nope."

Henry and I had been partners for seven years. He knew exactly how I rolled. He clammed up and hit the gas.

The studio was on the top floor of an old building on the left bank of the Silver River.

The moment I pushed the door open, I took a deep breath. Tools, materials, lights, workbench, everything was as I'd left it.

Henry said, "Kept it exactly how you left it. Haven't moved a thing."

My fingertips brushed over the cold metal edge of the workbench.

It had been three years since I'd last touched it. But the touch was still familiar.

That same afternoon, I started sketching.

Henry was off to the side, handling emails, and kept sneaking glances at me now and then, without saying a thing.

By 8 p.m., I'd finished my first set of drafts.

Henry leaned over to take a look and let out a low whistle. "All that inspiration you've been bottling up for three years finally came pouring out, huh?"

I didn't say anything, set my pencil down, and stretched my wrist. "Tomorrow, let the association know I'm confirming my entry. Five pieces."

Henry nearly dropped his glasses. "Five? You used to only manage three a year."

"Feeling good."

Henry gave me a long look, then grinned. "Alright, as long as you're happy."

This was my first day after leaving James. No tears, no breakdowns, no endless fights or interrogations.

The long-lost freedom and a career that truly belonged to me. This was the life I was meant to live.

Chapter 3

The night before I left, I stayed at my studio. My phone kept buzzing.

It wasn't James. He hadn't sent a single message. He was probably busy making arrangements for Lily's trip to Islehaven.

It was my mom. [Emily, are you packed for your honeymoon in two days? The sun in Azure Bay is brutal, so I picked up some sunscreen for you. Come pick it up when you have time.]

I hesitated for a moment before replying: [Mom, we canceled the honeymoon. I have a business trip to Lumiere.]

She called me right away. "What do you mean 'canceled'? You've been married for three years and finally managed to set up your honeymoon. How can you drop it out of the blue?"

"Mom, I really don't want to get into it right now. I'll explain when I get to Lumiere."

She was quiet for a few seconds. My mom was sharp. She could tell something was off. "Is something wrong with James?"

"No, it's work."

"Don't lie to me."

"Mom." I paused for a moment. "I've figured some things out, and I need a little time. Don't worry about me."

She didn't ask anything else. "Let me know when you get there."

"Okay." After hanging up, I checked the time. 1 a.m. already. Six hours to go until my 7 a.m. flight.

I switched my phone to silent and crashed on the studio couch, eyes shut.

My mind was crystal clear. No attachment, no sadness. A lightness, as I'd finally let go of a heavy weight.

It felt strange for the first time in three years.

At 5 a.m., my alarm went off. I splashed some water on my face, grabbed my suitcase, and headed out. I called a cab to the airport.

As I passed the Foster Family's building, I instinctively glanced up.

The 23rd floor was dark. He was probably still asleep. Or maybe he wasn't home. Maybe he'd already gone to Lily's place. I didn't care anymore.

At the airport, I breezed through security and waited for my flight. Everything went smoothly.

Five minutes before boarding, my phone buzzed. It was a message from James. [I'm on a business trip today. Grab something to eat on your own.]

That was all. No extra concern, not a little.

I stared at the message, sent back a quick reply: [Okay. Take care of yourself.] After sending it, I turned off my phone.

Outside the window, the sky was barely beginning to brighten. The plane taxied, picked up speed, and took off.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.

Goodbye, James. I hoped you and your childhood sweetheart would enjoy Islehaven. By the time you got back, this marriage would be over.

*****

When I landed in Lumiere, it was 3 p.m. local time.

Henry was there to pick me up. He stood at the arrivals exit, tall and lean, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, holding up a sign that read: [E.L., our little boss, welcome home.]

I almost burst out laughing.

Henry spotted me and rushed over, grabbed my suitcase. "Hey, you look thinner."

"Skip the chit-chat. Take me straight to the studio," I said.

Henry pushed up his glasses. "Not going to rest up for the jet lag first?"

"Nope."

Henry and I had been partners for seven years. He knew exactly how I rolled. He clammed up and hit the gas.

The studio was on the top floor of an old building on the left bank of the Silver River.

The moment I pushed the door open, I took a deep breath. Tools, materials, lights, workbench, everything was as I'd left it.

Henry said, "Kept it exactly how you left it. Haven't moved a thing."

My fingertips brushed over the cold metal edge of the workbench.

It had been three years since I'd last touched it. But the touch was still familiar.

That same afternoon, I started sketching.

Henry was off to the side, handling emails, and kept sneaking glances at me now and then, without saying a thing.

By 8 p.m., I'd finished my first set of drafts.

Henry leaned over to take a look and let out a low whistle. "All that inspiration you've been bottling up for three years finally came pouring out, huh?"

I didn't say anything, set my pencil down, and stretched my wrist. "Tomorrow, let the association know I'm confirming my entry. Five pieces."

Henry nearly dropped his glasses. "Five? You used to only manage three a year."

"Feeling good."

Henry gave me a long look, then grinned. "Alright, as long as you're happy."

This was my first day after leaving James. No tears, no breakdowns, no endless fights or interrogations.

The long-lost freedom and a career that truly belonged to me. This was the life I was meant to live.