Book3Chapter11.
Two days before my flight to New York, I was packing, trying to sort through the mess that was my life. I found a box filled with mementos from my relationship with Ethan photos, letters, gifts. Memories, bittersweet and painful, flooded my
mind.
The doorbell rang, jarring me back to reality. It was Ethan. He looked like a shadow of his former self, his hair dishevelled, his clothes rumpled, his eyes
red–rimmed and desperate.
He stood there, holding a document in his hand. “Anya,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I’m free. We can be together now.”
It was his divorce decree. Somehow, Chloe had agreed.
“It’s too late, Ethan,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “Go home.”
“Anya, please,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “I made a mistake, a huge mistake! Give me another chance.”
I looked at him then, really looked at him, and saw a stranger. The love, the hurt, the anger, it was all gone, replaced by a vast emptiness.
“No, Ethan,” I said, my voice firm. “We’re over. Go live your life and leave me
alone.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Goodbye, Anya,” he whispered, turning to leave. “I guess some mistakes you can’t come back
from.”
I watched him go, a part of me feeling a flicker of pity, but I quickly pushed it down. He made his choices. This was the consequence.
Book lapter 11
Three months into my MBA program, my sister called. She told me about Chloe, about how she’d had a breakdown, how she’d tried to take her own life. And about Ethan, how he’d died in a car accident, distracted and heartbroken.
I listened quietly, feeling nothing but a weary sadness. Their story was over. Mine, however, was just beginning.
I looked out at the New York City skyline, the sun glinting off the skyscrapers. It was a new dawn, a new chapter. And I was finally free.
