CHAPTER 17
Flyer
The doorbell rings about twenty minutes later.
Dominic stands and walks to the door while I take out two plates from the cabinet.
The smell of soy sauce and fried rice fills the kitchen as he brings the takeout bags to the table.
We sit across from each other, he opens the containers while I pour wine into our glasses.
For a moment it almost feels normal, the quiet clinking of chopsticks, the steam rising from the food.
“Mm,” Dominic says, taking a bite. “I forgot how good this place is.”
I nod, picking at my food.
“I went for a walk earlier,” I say casually.
“Oh yeah?”
“In the park.” He glances up. “I ran into Marcus.”
Dominic pauses for a second before continuing to eat.
“Yeah,” he says. “He’s off today.”He looks at me again. “Wait… like after your work?”
I shake my head slightly.
“No,” I say. “Early afternoon. I.. I left work early.”
Dominic’s brows knit together.
“Why? Are you okay?”
I nod quickly.
“Yeah…Just a headache.”
He reaches across the table and gently takes my hand.
“Drink lots of water, my love,” he says softly.
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.
“And please consider leaving your job,” he continues. “If we’re going to have a baby… you shouldn’t be stressed at all.”
I nod slowly and take a sip of my wine.
Dominic notices immediately.
“And no more wine once we start trying,” he says with a small smile.
I swallow.
“Marcus said you were supposed to be off today.”
Dominic freezes for a fraction of a second and his fingers tighten slightly around his chopsticks. He glances down at his plate, then rubs the back of his neck like he suddenly remembered something.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Uh… Sophie’s out today.” He shrugs lightly. “I had to go in and cover her shift.”
I nod slowly, pretending the explanation makes sense.
We continue eating. Conversation fades. The only sounds left are the quiet clinking of dishes and the hum of the refrigerator.
Eventually the food is finished. Dominic clears the table while I rinse the plates.
Later we move to the couch, the soft glow of the television filling the living room while some random movie plays in the background.
Neither of us really watches it and by the time we head upstairs, the house is quiet again. Dominic falls asleep quickly beside me. But I lie there staring at the ceiling. My mind replaying every word he said tonight.
Every pause. Every nervous gesture. And somewhere deep in my chest, that same heavy feeling settles back in.
Like something is wrong.
Very wrong.
But I still don’t know what it is.
* * *
I wake up before the sun. 5:02 a.m. The room is still dark, the quiet of the early morning wrapped around the house.
I stare at the ceiling for a few seconds, hoping sleep might come back but It doesn’t.
Beside me, Dominic sleeps peacefully, one arm stretched across the bed like nothing in the world is wrong.
I carefully slip out from under the blanket, trying not to wake him.
Pulling on a sweater and a pair of leggings, I quietly make my way downstairs and step outside.
A cool breeze drifts through the air. That early morning kind of cold that feels clean and sharp against the skin.
The sky is still a pale gray-blue, the sun barely beginning to push through the horizon. The neighborhood is quiet.
I take a deep breath, hoping the fresh air will clear my mind but It doesn’t. That’s when I notice someone across the street. Mrs. Alden. She’s outside her house, struggling slightly as she drags a trash bag toward the bin at the curb.
“Morning,” I say as I step closer.
She turns, surprised to see me.
“Oh, Era,” she says. “Hello, dear.” She glances at the sky. “It’s awfully early.”
I shrug slightly.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Mrs. Alden nods knowingly.
“Getting an early start to the day?”
“Something like that.”
She tosses the trash bag into the bin and dusts off her hands.
Then she looks at me for a moment.
Her expression softens.
“Oh sweetheart,” she says quietly. “I’m so sorry about the situation.”
I frown slightly.
“What situation?”
She sighs gently.
“If anyone knows how you feel, it’s me,” she says. “My husband did the same thing.” She pauses, glancing down at the pavement. “He uh—” She stops herself. “Anyway,” she says quickly. “I’m here if you ever need to talk—”
“You knew?”
The words come out sharper than I expected.
Mrs. Alden looks startled.
“Well—”
“Mrs. Alden, you knew?” I repeat.
She shifts uncomfortably.
“Sweetheart… I think the neighborhood knows.” My stomach drops. “I mean,” she continues awkwardly, “I was honestly waiting for you to—”
“You knew,” I cut in, my voice rising. “And you didn’t bother to tell me.”
“Era, honey—”
“I can’t believe this.” I shake my head.
She lifts her hands defensively.
“People handle these things differently,” she says carefully. “Everyone has their own way of…..coping.” I stare at her in disbelief. “And it’s not like I know her” she adds quickly. “I mean, I’ve only seen her a few times.”
“You’ve seen her?”
“Well—”
“You’ve seen her,” I repeat slowly. “And you just didn’t bother saying anything.”
Mrs. Alden sighs.
“Honey, what happens inside someone’s home isn’t really my business. I didn’t want to be rude asking about something so personal. When my husband—”
“No,” I whisper. “Please don’t.”
Because if she keeps talking, I might break right here on the sidewalk. I turn away before she can say anything else. The cold morning air bites at my skin as I walk back toward my house. It feels like I’m disappearing into something that’s swallowing me whole again.
Not from running.
Not from crying.
From something worse.
The quiet realization that everyone else saw the truth before I did.
I don’t even realize I’m running until my lungs start burning.
The cold morning air cuts against my face as I hurry back toward the house.
My hands are shaking as I unlock the front door and slip inside quietly.
Dominic is still asleep. For a moment I stand there in the entryway, staring toward the staircase.
Then I slowly walk upstairs, I move carefully down the hallway, grabbing a change of clothes from the dresser as quietly as I can.
I don’t stay long. I head back downstairs and change in the living room, pulling on my work clothes in the dim early morning light so I don’t wake him.
Shoes, coat, keys. Within minutes I’m back in my car.
The engine starts and I pull out of the driveway without looking back.
My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as I drive.
After a few minutes I press the call button on my dashboard. Clara answers on the second ring.
“Era? It’s like five in the morning. What’s wrong?”
My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
“I’m filing for divorce.”
There’s a moment of silence.
Then Clara exhales.
“Good.” The word surprises me. “I’m proud of you,” she says. “And I’m with you the whole way, okay? Whatever you need.”
My throat tightens.
“I feel so stupid,” I admit quietly.
“You’re not stupid.”
“I ignored everything,” I continue. “All the signs. I kept believing he’d change.” The road stretches ahead of me in long quiet lines. “But he’s not going to,” I say softly. “And I think… I think I’m finally realizing that.”
Clara’s voice softens.
“You deserve better than that, Era.”
I swallow hard.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
Clara sighs.
“Well… it’s early as hell,” she says. “And you don’t start work for another two hours.
” She sighs dramatically. “And can I just say—this is the only company I know that works on Saturdays.” I open my mouth, but she cuts me off immediately.
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re going to say.
They only do it once a month.” She adds.
A beat.
“But still,” she mutters, “how fucking odd.” Then her tone shifts slightly. “And honestly, you don’t even need the extra pay.” She goes quiet for a second, like she’s realizing what she just said. “Well… never mind. I take that back.”
We both let out a small huff of laughter.
Another pause, softer this time.
“Okay,” she says, her voice turning serious. “But where are you going to go?”
I don’t know. But a few minutes later after talking to Clara, I pull into a small park near the office.
There’s a lake at the center, the water still and gray under the early morning sky.
I park the car and walk toward a bench near the edge of the water.
I sit down and wrap my arms around myself as the cool breeze drifts across the lake.
The surface of the water ripples softly.
For a while I just sit there, watching the slow movement of the morning around me.
A small group of ducks glides across the lake, their bodies cutting gentle lines through the glassy water.
They move together, calm and unhurried, the soft sounds of their paddling echoing across the quiet shore.
One of the ducks suddenly dips its head beneath the surface, sending little circles of ripples across the water before it pops back up again.
The others follow, drifting slowly along the lake as the first hints of sunlight begin to stretch across the horizon. The scene is simple.
Peaceful.
Beautiful in a quiet way.
And for a moment, watching them glide across the water, I feel something inside my chest loosen just a little.
Like the tight knot I’ve been carrying is finally starting to unravel.
The ducks move forward slowly, leaving quiet ripples behind them, never once looking back at where they started.
And I realize that maybe that’s what moving on looks like.
Not dramatic. Not loud.
Just… choosing a new direction.
Choosing yourself. I remember something I once read.
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk away from the life you thought you wanted…
and start again. The thought is both heartbreaking and strangely beautiful.
Because starting over means admitting that everything I built with Dominic is ending.
But it also means something else. For the first time in a long time, I might finally be choosing myself.
An hour passes before I even realize it.
Eventually I stand from the bench, brushing my hands against my coat.
The day is beginning now, people are starting to arrive, cars pulling into parking lots.
The world is moving forward. I take one last look at the quiet lake, then I head toward the office.
I walk into the office with my heart racing.
The moment the elevator doors open, my stomach curls.
The thought of seeing Lucien after yesterday makes my chest feel heavy.
Our last conversation ended in a way that left something unfinished hanging between us.
Something fragile. Something painful.
I step into the hallway and force myself to breathe normally.
Just work. That’s all this is. I reach my desk and begin my usual morning routine.
Logging into the financial system, reviewing overnight transaction reports, organizing invoices that came through email, and updating the expense spreadsheet Andrew asked for yesterday.
I check the calendar for the day’s finance meetings, print a few documents for Andrew’s afternoon review, and file the latest vendor payment approvals.
Normal, routine. But my eyes keep drifting toward Lucien’s office.
The door is open, the lights are off and he’s not there.
After a while I stand and walk down the hallway.
I almost run into James near the copier.
“Hey,” I say. “Do you know if Lucien’s in today? I was actually going to ask him something about the finance meeting next week.”
James shakes his head.
“Yeah, I just heard from Andrew not too long ago,” he says. “Lucien’s not coming in this week.”
“Oh,” I say, caught off guard.
“Apparently he’s flying back to New York today.”
A tight pressure closes in on me.
“Oh,” I repeat quietly. “I didn’t know.”
James shrugs.
“Lucien left a list of things for you to handle while he’s gone. Stuff he usually has you help with.”
I nod slowly.
Then James lowers his voice a little.
“Between us though…” he says.
I glance at him.
“I heard Lucien might be starting a new branch in New Jersey.” He whispers.
“What?”
“Yeah,” he says casually. “I’m not even sure if he’ll be working out of this office anymore.” He leans closer slightly. “And I heard they’re looking into hiring assistant managers in the New Jersey area with really good pay.” He lifts his hands. “I don’t know if it’s true though. Just hearsay.”
“Oh,” I say. “That’s… nice.”
But something inside my chest sinks. For some reason the thought of Lucien leaving this office, this city, makes something ache in a way I didn’t expect. Like a door quietly closing before I even realized it was open.
I return to my desk and focus on the list Lucien left for me. Budget updates, vendor approvals, expense summaries, email replies. The work keeps my mind occupied. The hours slip by faster than I expect and before I know it, the office lights have shifted into late afternoon.
I gather my things and stand, ready to head home.
“See you tomorrow,” I call toward James’s desk.
But before I can leave, James suddenly speaks up.
“Hey Andrew,” he says from across the office.
Andrew pauses near the hallway.
“What’s up?”
“Nadia was wondering if she could post flyers around the office,” James says. “Like in the hallways and stuff. I told her it’s fine by me but I just wanted to run it by you.”
Andrew shrugs.
“Yeah sure. What’s it about?”
My attention drifts toward the breakroom.
The door is open.
And right on the bulletin board near the coffee machine…
There’s a flyer.
White paper.
Black bold letters.
My feet stop moving.
At the top of the page it reads:
MISSING
Below it—
A photograph.
Short blonde hair framing her face. A small, confident smile.
Sophie Lewis.