Not a slam. Just a gentle, final click.
Outside, the air was crisp. I breathed in deeply, letting the cold burn my lungs.
That night, it felt like a sanctuary.
“Hi, what would you like?” a waitress smiled at me.
“Um… a cappuccino?” I replied.
Moments later, the owner came to my table by the window.
“You look like you’ve had the wind knocked out of you. Stay as long as you like,” she said.
“I’ll send over some cake.”
I sat at the table and curled my hands around the warmth of the cup. For the first time in what felt like years, I just sat. There were no lists to check.
No kitchen timer waiting. Just soft café music playing overhead. Outside, the trees swayed gently in the wind.
Later that night, I returned to pack a small overnight bag.
I was going to my parents. We’d already arranged it while I was at the coffee shop. The house felt colder now, echoey and sterile.
Aidan was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes fixed on the floor like a schoolboy waiting for punishment.
“You ruined my birthday, Lacey,” his voice low and sulking.
“Are you really not taking me with you?”
I didn’t flinch or roll my eyes. I zipped my bag calmly.
“No, Aidan,” I replied. “You did that all by yourself.
He didn’t follow me when I left.
Two days later, I went to the Maldives alone.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” my mother asked.
“I’m sure,” I said, smiling.Continue reading…
