Chapter 3 #3
I shook my head, my frustration boiling over. “No, the real question is, why are you so small-minded? There is more to life than messy moments, and I can’t keep dwelling on them.”
“Life is messy, Elliot,” she said, her tone turning cold. “And people make mistakes. But if you let go of the people closest to you, you’ll only end up bitter and alone. Is that what you want?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but stopped myself. I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. Instead, I pushed my chair back and grabbed my bag.
“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice sharp with annoyance.
“Home,” I said, standing. “I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, glaring at me. “We’re not finished.”
“Yes, we are,” I said, my voice quiet but resolute.
Without waiting for her response, I turned and walked out of the restaurant.
The silence in my apartment felt suffocating.
It had been three hours since I had walked out of that lunch with my mother, and since then, I had hardly moved.
The only sounds that filled the space were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of the refrigerator.
Every time I tried to distract myself with something, it felt hollow.
No amount of scrolling on my phone or flipping through channels on the TV could quiet the noise in my head.
I sat on the couch, my knees pulled to my chest, my mind swirling with a thousand thoughts, none of them good:
Go to Thailand or stay here?
Face them or run away?
Deal with this or escape?
It was exhausting. I felt like I was being pulled in a million directions, and no matter what I chose, there was no right answer. No matter how many times I told myself to just breathe, it didn’t seem to help.
I wished I had friends to confide in, but my father was gone, and my two best friends decided to sleep with each other.
Additionally, the unfortunate side of being with someone since you were sixteen was that most friends were mutual.
None of them knew the true reason the wedding was called off suddenly and wanted to remain neutral.
It was a smart move on their part, lest they side with the villain.
Still though, a non-biased kind word would have moved mountains for me at this moment.
The laptop sat open on the coffee table in front of me, the Thailand Beauty Academy’s website still glowing in the dim light.
The page was untouched, but I couldn’t bring myself to close it or send the application.
I ran my fingers across the keyboard, my thoughts so scattered I barely knew what I was doing.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the couch as the same thoughts crept in.
You’re running away from everything you’ve known. You’re weak. You’ll always regret this.
But how could I face them after what happened? Why did they even do this? Why didn’t they care about me? Why didn’t anyone care? What about me?
My phone buzzed from the coffee table, interrupting my internal spiral.
I reached for it, fully expecting it to be a message from my mother or maybe Ryan. It wasn’t from either one. It was Johnathan:
Johnny: Hey, E. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but we still have a lot of assets together that we need to handle. A lot of your things are still here, and there is still the matter of the property my parents gifted us. It’s in both of our names. Can I come over to talk?
This was really it, huh? We were really done forever. Before I could even process that, another message followed:
Johnny: By the way, a few friends are reaching out with questions about the separation. What should I say? I want to keep things as respectful as possible for you because, despite what you may think, I still love you. You didn’t deserve this, Elliot.
I reread the last line with rage and sent my first reply in weeks.
Me: Tell them whatever you like, I don’t care what you say. You can keep your property, I want nothing to do with it or you. As for my things, burn them. Sell them. Give them to Ryan since she's obsessed with my leftovers.
I hit send and immediately blocked him. It was petty and unnecessarily cruel, but I couldn’t help myself. Knowing that he knew I didn’t deserve this, and he did it anyway, enraged me further.
My phone buzzed again, and I didn’t even need to check to see that it was my mother. I let the phone buzz again and again, this time ignoring it completely. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say.
I stood up abruptly, pacing around my small apartment as if walking would help me figure it all out.
Frustrated, I ran my hand through my coarse hair, stopping in front of the window.
The view of the city below—gray and still—made me feel even more isolated.
The thought of staying here, stuck in this apartment, surrounded by memories of my life before, felt suffocating.
If I didn’t leave, I’d never move on. If I didn’t leave, I’d live to regret it.
The thought of Phuket felt like a breath of fresh air. I closed my eyes, imagining myself in a different place: a new apartment filled with natural light, maybe close to the beach, surrounded by people who understood my newfound passion and love for beauty.
I clenched my jaw. Finally, I decided that this was not me running; it was me choosing myself—for once.
I walked back to the coffee table, staring at the laptop screen. The application page for the school was still open, waiting for my decision. I took a deep breath, and then, with a final breath, I clicked it.
Submitted.
The words flashed across the screen, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a rush of excitement.
It wasn’t a solution to everything. It wasn’t going to make the hurt go away.
But it was mine. It was my choice, and I felt like I had some control over my own life.
I wasn’t running. I was choosing a future and a new beginning.
I was going to Thailand.