Chapter 8
BETH
Isat in the empty penthouse for a long time after Chris left.
The sun was high, the day already moving forward, but I was stuck in the quiet of the living room, my gaze fixed on the city stretched out beyond the windows.
This place felt too big, too clean, like a museum dedicated to someone else’s life.
Every piece of art, every sleek piece of furniture reminded me of the role I’d been playing for so long I didn’t even remember how to step out of it.
The sound of the elevator door opening in my mind repeated over and over, like I was waiting for him to come back.
But Chris wasn’t coming back today. Or tomorrow.
He had business to handle. Meetings to attend.
His world didn’t stop spinning just because I was having a crisis.
That’s how it had always been, but for the first time, that felt more like freedom than an insult.
I stood up and walked toward the bedroom, where his scent still lingered on the sheets.
My fingers grazed the silk pillowcase, and I thought about all the mornings I’d woken up next to him, trying to bridge the gap that had slowly widened between us.
Now, it felt like that gap had turned into a canyon.
I took a deep breath, pushing aside the sting in my chest. Today was the day.
It was finally time to do what I had only dared to whisper to myself in the quiet of night.
It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, but the weight of the past few weeks had finally tipped the scale.
There was nothing left for me here. No version of myself that felt authentic.
With that thought, I moved into action. I opened the closet and started packing.
But I didn’t reach for the expensive designer bags he had bought me.
Instead, I grabbed two simple, worn-out duffel bags I’d stuffed in the back when we first moved in, relics from my life before Seattle, before everything became about image and status.
The clothes I selected were basic, nothing flashy.
Jeans, sweaters, old T-shirts I hadn’t touched in years.
I left the silk dresses and tailored jackets behind, the pieces that had been carefully chosen for me.
Let them sit on their padded hangers. They weren’t mine, not really.
As I folded each item, it felt like shedding skin I no longer recognized.
The hardest part was knowing what to leave behind.
I placed my wedding ring on top of the dresser, a delicate piece of jewelry that once meant the world to me.
It sat there, catching the morning light, and for a moment I stared at it, wondering if this was the right move.
But I didn’t pick it up. I left it there, a quiet reminder of what had once been, something I was willing to walk away from.
If I wanted a new future, I had to let go of the things that no longer fit, including the promises I had made to myself when I was a different person.
Maybe the person I was then wasn’t meant for this version of me.
I found the notepad Chris kept on his bedside table and scribbled out a short, simple message.
Chris,
I’ve needed to find myself for a long time now. I’m taking a step back, away from this life. I don’t need any of it anymore. You don’t need to understand.
Just take care of yourself.
There was nothing else to say that wouldn’t turn into an argument.
It was enough. I folded the note and placed it on the table, then zipped up the bags, slung them over my shoulders, and walked out of the room without looking back.
The door closing behind me echoed like the end of something that had been long overdue.
I had no doubt where I was going to go. My sister, Lisa, had a spare bedroom.
And it had been far too long since I had last visited her.
We kept in touch with calls, and we always visited at the holidays, but there was always something that made me feel guilty when it came time to pack up my stuff.
I never had enough time, there was always something Chris needed me for, and I could tell Lisa didn’t like how rarely she saw me, not just for the distance between us physically, but emotionally as well.
And she had made it clear how she felt about the man I married.
Lisa was nothing like the people I had surrounded myself with in Seattle.
She ran a diner in the small coastal town where I grew up, she wore comfortable clothes, didn’t care about appearances, and was the kind of person who would tell you what she thought without sugarcoating it.
Her life wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and right now, real was what I needed.
Besides, the thought of her warm hugs and her no-nonsense advice was exactly what I craved.
Hey, sis, I need a break. Can I come stay with you?
Her response was almost immediate.
Of course! When? Things are pretty busy at the diner. Just letting you know.
I’m on my way. Leaving now.
I took one last look at the penthouse before closing the door behind me.
It was easier to walk away than I thought.
No part of me looked back. I hit the button for the elevator and waited.
As the doors opened, a woman stepped out, someone I vaguely recognized from one of Chris’s events.
She glanced at my bags with raised eyebrows but didn’t say a word.
I didn’t bother trying to explain. I wasn’t anyone she needed to recognize anymore.
The drive out of the city felt like breathing fresh air for the first time in years.
I rolled down the windows, letting the crisp wind whip through my hair.
The skyscrapers grew smaller in my rearview mirror, replaced by the open road that stretched out ahead of me, endless and full of possibility.
There was no plan, no set idea of what I would do next.
All I knew was that I needed to figure things out on my own, in a place where no one expected me to be anyone but myself.
Hours later, I pulled up to the diner Lisa owned.
The faded sign hanging above the door read “Parker’s Diner,” a place that had been a staple in our small town for years.
The smell of greasy food and coffee hit me before I even walked inside, bringing back memories of late-night conversations with Lisa when we were younger.
The bell above the door jingled as I stepped in, and Lisa’s head popped up from behind the counter.
Her face broke into a wide grin when she saw me, but it quickly faded into a look of concern.
I must have looked as tired as I felt. She came out from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron, and pulled me into a tight hug.
“Well, look at you,” she said, her voice thick with affection and worry. “I’m glad you’re here, but damn, Beth, you look like hell.”
I laughed weakly into her shoulder. “I’ve been better.”
She pulled back and held me at arm’s length, her eyes searching my face. “Spill it. What’s going on? Last I heard, everything was fine.”
“Yeah, well, turns out it wasn’t,” I said with a sigh, feeling the weight of it all catch up with me. “It’s been a long time coming, but I left.”
Lisa blinked, clearly trying to process the information. “You mean, like, left Chris? Left Seattle?” When I nodded, she let out a slow whistle. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming. What happened?”
I glanced around the diner, half-full of customers who didn’t seem to notice our conversation.
“It just got to a point where I wasn’t living my life anymore.
I was living the one he expected, the one everyone else wanted.
” I shrugged, not sure how to explain the suffocating feeling that had led me here.
“I needed to get out, to figure out what’s left of me when all the bullshit’s stripped away. ”
Lisa gave me a knowing look. “So, what now?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, the truth of those words sinking in. “That’s why I’m here. I needed a place where I could just be for a while.”
Lisa smiled softly and squeezed my arm. “You’ve got that. But let me tell you one thing,” she said, her tone turning more serious. “This life? It ain’t gonna be what you’re used to.”
“I know,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I fully grasped what I had stepped into. “But I’m ready for something real.”
“I’m going to give you all the support I can, but I’ll be honest. I’m struggling here. The diner hasn’t been doing well.”
“Oh, I will earn my keep here. And I can help you.”
She laughed. “You don’t have to do that. You’re here to heal, and that’s going to be a job in itself.”
I knew she was right. This wasn’t going to be easy. I’d been living a life that didn’t challenge me, that kept me comfortable but unfulfilled. Coming here, to a town where my name wasn’t attached to anything, where I wasn’t just “Chris Lewis’s wife,” was both terrifying and liberating.
“You’re gonna need some work clothes if you plan to spend time here,” she said with a smirk. “None of that fancy stuff is gonna hold up.”
I chuckled, looking down at the jeans and sweater I’d been wearing for the past six hours. “Yeah, I figured as much.”
“Well, come on,” she said, motioning toward the back of the diner. “You can drop your bags upstairs, and we’ll figure the rest out from there.”
As we climbed the narrow stairs to the small apartment above the diner, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.
This wasn’t the penthouse, it wasn’t Seattle, and it sure wasn’t the life I’d been living.
It was something new, something uncharted, but for the first time in a long time, it felt right.
It was a fresh start, and while I didn’t know where it would lead, I was ready to find out.
Lisa opened the door to a cozy living room, with a worn couch and a TV that had probably seen better days.
My bags hit the floor with a soft thud, and I stood in the middle of it all, realizing just how far I’d come in one day.
Lisa stood beside me, a reassuring presence that told me everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn’t right now.
“You’re really doing this, huh?” she asked, her voice filled with awe and concern.
I looked out the small window facing the street below. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’m really doing it.”
We didn’t say more. There was no need to. The decision had been made, and now it was just a matter of taking it one day at a time.