Chapter 4
Beginning.
A month later.
I had always imagined that the first day in a new setting would feel… different.
I didn’t know what to expect—maybe excitement, or some kind of awe, or at least the sense that I was doing something bold and audacious. But when I walked into the lustrous beauty school on the first morning, all I felt was the knot in my stomach I had been carrying for weeks.
Graciously, Jonathan decided to return my half of the wedding expenses. That, coupled with my inheritance, made it possible to rent myself a lovely little apartment close to the beach for the eighteen months I’d be here. Still, I barely managed to put a dent in the funds.
The streets outside the academy were bustling with life, but inside, it was calm in a way that felt both comforting and isolating.
I stood in the lobby, staring at the polished marble floors beneath my shoes.
Everything was pristine, with clean white walls, soft lighting, and sleek, minimalist architecture.
And me? Well, I was a mess.
I’ve been in Thailand for a week now, and every single day, I wrestled with loneliness.
Sure, I’d been keeping myself busy—sorting out my documents, settling into the new routine and time zone, and familiarizing myself with the program—but there were still moments, usually before the sun began to set and the day’s noise quieted when it felt like I was being consumed by silence. Now, I dreaded silence.
I missed home. I missed my old apartment, even the cold, echoing silence of it.
At least it was familiar. But worst of all, I missed my Jonathan and Ryan.
It was hard enough processing what they’d done to me, but being thousands of miles away from even the possibility of seeing them again was mournful.
Grief had a sense of humor. Some days, I was at ease with the knowledge that I’d never see them again, and the relationship was finished.
But other days, the very thought of their names was enough to send me under the covers in a sobbing mess.
I had been mourning the dead and living simultaneously.
Maybe I moved too fast in my decision to come here.
In hindsight, I did get my acceptance letter, changed my number, packed up my things, and moved across the world in less than a month.
I’ve barely had time to process everything.
But I couldn’t think that way. I chose this, I reminded myself. That should have meant something. Right?
“Come on, Elliot. Focus,” I muttered to myself, taking a deep breath.
The first day of class was starting in just a few minutes, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted. I walked down the corridor, glancing at the signs overhead indicating the classrooms, and eventually found my way to the one labeled ‘Beginner Course for Nail Art and Design’.
The closed door still allowed a soft murmur of voices to come from inside.
I took a deep breath and pushed it open.
Inside, the large windows let in streams of natural light, forcing my eyes to blink rapidly as they adjusted.
Looking around, I noticed several workstations were set up with professional nail supplies and tiny sculptures of nail designs, already waiting for the students.
At the front of the room, a tiny woman in sensible heels sat at a desk, scrolling through a tablet. I assumed that was the instructor.
I hesitated at the door, unsure if I should just slip in quietly and take a seat at one of the empty stations or approach the instructor. Before I could make up my mind, a heavily accented voice called out to me.
“Are you Elliot?”
I turned toward the direction of the voice and saw a tall, full-figured woman with bright, red-dyed hair and a broad smile gesturing for me to come over. She was sitting at one of the workstations, already getting her supplies ready.
She was stunning. The red hair perfectly complemented her dark skin, and her smile stood out against them both.
I needed to be her friend, badly.
I wanted to introduce myself in a way that didn’t make me seem like a loser who had been holed up in her apartment for the past month, but the words didn’t come. Instead, I stood there like a deer in headlights before nodding.
“I figured!” she said, beckoning me to come in. I stepped into the room and made my way to the workstation nearest to her. Within two seconds, she had made her way over to introduce herself.
“Hi! I’m Esther. Since you’re new, Nadiya assigned me to assist you.”
“Nadiya?” I asked in a low voice.
“The instructor,” she clarified, nodding to the woman sitting at the front. “You’re gonna love it here. Nail design is severely time-consuming but also life-changing.”
“Good to know,” I smiled awkwardly, then tried to make conversation. “How long have you been doing it?”
“Three months. Nadiya says I should move on to the next course because she has already taught me everything.”
“Really?” My eyebrows rose in shock. “And you’re still here? Why?”
She shrugged. “I feel like there is still more to learn. Plus, I love to meet new people.”
Nadiya, with a stern expression but a kind voice, called the class to attention. “Alright, everyone, take your seats. I’m about to begin.”
I could feel my nerves kick in, but Esther flashed me a quick grin, and I felt secure again.
When the lesson started, Nadiya walked around the room, showing us the basics of nail care and the finer points of acrylic application. We worked on printed paper for practice, and I tried to focus on my application, but I kept getting hung up on every little imperfection.
Esther was quick at her work, her hands moving with the kind of practiced ease that came from months of experience. I tried to mimic her, focusing on the precision of each stroke, but my wrists kept drifting. It was like my hands were moving mechanically, not with any true confidence.
Esther said it would get better. Maybe it would.
Maybe I could get through it if I just kept my head down and worked through the discomfort.
But deep inside, there was still that quiet ache.
The loneliness in the pit of my stomach hadn’t disappeared with the new surroundings, and the dizzying scent of acrylic was not helping.
Esther glanced up from her work, sensing my unease.
“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle but curious. “You okay? You got all quiet.”
I paused, feeling my stomach tighten as her eyes met mine. I wasn’t used to people noticing me like this—picking up on the subtle shifts in my mood. But Esther caught on right away.
“I think I’m having a panic attack,” I said with urgency.
Esther’s eyes widened.
“What?” she questioned, but her hand shot into the air before I could even respond. “Nadiya? Elliot needs a little fresh air.”
Nadiya, who had been preoccupied with her notes, immediately looked up. “Of course, Elliot. Please, take all the time you need.”
I nodded, standing up from my seat, my legs shaky beneath me.
“Want me to come with you?” Esther offered gently.
“No,” I replied quickly. “It’s fine.”
Before she could press further, I bolted out the door and down the corridor, my heart pounding erratically.
The walls seemed to close in as I moved faster, my breath hitching with every step. My chest burned, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. I stopped, leaning against the cool surface of the wall, gasping for air.
Focus. Breathe in. Breathe out. I repeated it like a mantra until the tightness in my chest began to loosen.
When I could finally breathe again, I did something impulsive—something I hadn’t planned on. Despite my better judgment, I fished my phone out of my pocket to call my mother.
We hadn’t spoken since the lunch meeting a month ago. I decided not to tell her about my move because I knew she wasn’t in the mental space to accept it. Calling her before I left would’ve meant listening to her talk me out of it. And if I’d listened, I wouldn’t be here.
The phone rang for what felt like forever before she finally picked up.
“Who is this?” she asked groggily.
I froze. I’d forgotten I’d changed my number. “It’s Elliot, Ma.”
“Elliot! Girl, why are you calling at 2 a.m.?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing myself quietly. Damn it. The time difference.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t realize. It’s noon here.”
“Noon? Girl, what are you—” she paused. “Elliot Sawyer, where are you?”
I hesitated, then answered. “I’m in Thailand.”
“Thailand?!” Her voice shot up an octave. “What the heck are you doing in Thailand?”
“I’m taking the beauty course, remember? I’ll be here for eighteen months.”
Silence. I could almost hear her bewilderment, her lips pursing, and her hands clasping together in prayer.
“Lord, what have I done to deserve such a defiant child?” She pleaded, making me roll my eyes at the dramatics. “Elliot, sweetheart. Whatever you’re doing over there can be done here in Houston. You don’t need to go to Thailand to study at no damn beauty school!”
“You don’t think I know that?” I snapped, my frustration spilling over.
“I’m not just here for classes. I’m here to experience something fulfilling for once.
I want a change of scenery. I want my mind off all that bullshit back at home.
I want to be happy here, but it’s like I can’t because I can’t stop thinking about y’all!
And I don’t want to think about it. I want to enjoy myself for once! ”
“Elliot—”
“No, Ma. No!” My voice cracked. “I called because, as much as I want to cut everyone out of my life and move on, some sick part of me still wants to tell my mother about my day. And even though you berated me at my lowest, I still want you to know how I’m doing.
So, I’m calling to let you know that I’m fine.
And I’m going to complete this. Because I fucking deserve it! ”
The line went quiet. Her silence was deafening, and for a moment, I thought she might have hung up. But then she finally said, “I’ll pray for your safe return.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”
“Please keep me updated while you’re over there,” she added, her voice trembling. “I’ll worry.”
“I will, Ma. And… I’m sorry for not calling for a month.”
“It’s fine, Elliot. I just hope you find what you’re looking for.”
And then she hung up. God, I needed a drink.
?
I sat on the benches outside the building, staring blankly at the horizon as the hum of distant voices filled the air. I sipped the Mekhong and Cola I had ditched class to get, and it did exactly what I needed it to—relax me.
When class was finally over, Esther rushed over to me.
“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Yeah. I just… needed a minute. I’m still getting used to everything,” I mumbled, playing with my straw.
“Yeah, it’s a lot. I get it,” she said, nodding as she dropped onto the bench beside me. “I came all the way from Kenya to study here. It was a huge leap for me, too. It will get easier, I promise.”
“I know. I’m just—” I paused, the words catching in my throat. Did I even want to say it aloud? Admit to myself that the reason I felt so uneasy was because I was…
“Lonely?” she asked softly, her voice cutting through the noise in my head.
I nodded, my chest tightening. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t really think about how hard it would be to leave my entire life behind.”
Esther’s expression shifted, her eyes understanding. “It fucking sucks doesn’t it? You leave thinking you’ll find more, but you don’t realize how much you’ll lose when you leave it behind.”
I wanted to tell her everything. I’d only just met her, but I felt so starved for human interaction that I was ready to pour my heart out to the first person who was kind to me. I needed to get out more.
Thankfully, the words wouldn’t come, even if I wanted them to. It was all too raw, too messy, and I wasn’t ready to unravel it just yet.
Instead, I nodded again. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to remind myself that I was doing the right thing. It’s like I need constant reassurance that I didn’t uproot myself for nothing.”
Esther studied me for a moment, her gaze thoughtful.
“You know, I came here with no one. I didn’t even know what I was doing half the time.
But I knew why I was doing it. Maybe what you’re lacking is purpose.
You wouldn’t question yourself so much if you knew you were working toward something meaningful. ”
I blinked. Huh.
“Do you want something out of this?” she asked, leaning forward slightly. “What’s your plan after you finish the course?”
I hesitated, “I have no idea.”
Esther laughed at my obvious ignorance. “That’s your problem right there, Elliot. Purpose. It makes all the difference.”