6. Chapter 6
Elowen
The keycard chirps against the electronic lock, and the door swings open effortlessly.
I found this place through a luxury leasing agency that specializes in corporate relocations after a brief hotel stay.
It was a frantic, midnight search, but the five-thousand-dollar monthly rent bought me exactly what I needed.
I know I’m privileged. It’s amazing what money can do.
Yet, somehow, it’s quaint compared to my place with Julian.
Behind me, Leo clutches my jacket, his small fingers digging into the fabric like he’s afraid I might disappear, too. Meanwhile, Meredith pushes past us both, dragging her stuffed unicorn.
“It smells like the outside,” Leo whispers.
He’s right. The apartment doesn’t carry the scent of a home; it smells of industrial lemon and the salt of the ocean.
The open floor plan is dominated by a wall of glass.
Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the dark, churning expanse of the Pacific.
At this hour, the water is a bruised purple, dotted with the distant, flickering lights of ferries.
I flick on the recessed lighting. The walls are a crisp gallery white.
There is furniture here, thanks to online delivery services.
I purposely chose items that drew my eye, uncaring how well they matched each other.
A low-profile charcoal sofa sits in the center of the living area, facing the view.
A marble island anchors the kitchen, surrounded by four slightly mismatched barstools.
Nothing matches. Julian would hate it.
Good.
“When are we going home?” Leo asks, still attached to my side. He’s a lot like Julian, especially with how both don’t enjoy change. Meredith views change as an adventure; Leo views it as torture.
I set down our bags and crouch to his level. His eyes—Julian’s eyes—search mine for reassurance I’m honestly not sure I can give.
“This is our home now, little Leo lion. Just for a while.”
“But what about my room? And my toys?”
“We’ll get your things,” I tell him, though I have no idea how I’ll manage that particular battlefield. Guess I could go while Julian is at work and the kids are at school. “Right now, it’s very late, and we need to sleep.”
I had originally planned on a hotel, but this apartment felt like a clean break. The vacancy was immediate. I completed the background check and wired the deposit within an hour.
Meredith has already disappeared down what little hallway the apartment has. Her voice echoes back to us, high and bright. “I found the bedrooms! I get the one next to Mom!”
I had a local furniture boutique deliver three mattresses and frames this afternoon. I thought about replacing the rest of the staged furniture, but I have to be careful. Until Julian and I settle the matter of child support, I need to remain frugal where I can.
Leo’s grip on my jacket tightens. “I want my own bed.”
I run my hand through his curls. “Let’s go see what your sister found.”
The second and third bedrooms are large, though small compared to their individual suites at the house. Here, they still have their own rooms, just less space overall. Leo and I find Meredith already sprawled across her new bed, bouncing her unicorn against the headboard.
“I get this one,” she announces. “The other one is for babies who are afraid of the dark.”
“Meredith,” I warn.
Leo’s lip trembles. “I’m not a baby.”
I squeeze Leo’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be careful. Tonight, we’re all sleeping in the big room, anyway.”
“I won’t fall out, will I?”
“No. These beds are low to the ground. You’re safe.”
“Okay. Tonight I’ll sleep in your bed. Tomorrow, I’ll be brave.”
I had planned on making a run to the market on the ground floor. I wanted to find crossword puzzles and the specific cubed cheese the kids like, but I am absolutely exhausted.
The cheese can wait.
It is a tradition we started last year. I would cut sharp cheddar into perfect cubes, though sometimes Meredith would ask for triangles or circles. We would sit on the sofa and work through our puzzles. Crosswords for me. Word searches for Meredith. Sudoku for Leo.
Once the children are changed and their teeth are brushed, we collapse into a tangled heap on the king-sized bed in the primary suite. The city lights of Seattle shimmer through the sheer curtains, but I am asleep before I can even count them.
Light floods the room, bouncing off the white walls.
Meredith is sprawled diagonally across most of the bed, while Leo is curled against me.
I walk into the kitchen and find a sleek, stainless steel French press in the cupboard.
After making a pot of coffee, I stand by the window, watching the tide come in.
I grab my phone and dial the number I know by heart.
Virginia answers on the second ring. “Julian Plaza’s office.”
Her voice is so familiar. It’s the professional tone we both perfected over years of answering calls for Julian, though me more than her.
Truthfully, I know Virginia is a bit scatterbrained, but I see something in her.
Her sharp business skills just need to be honed and organized.
I’d hoped that with a little bit of direction, she’d grow as a professional and even move to a different department, like marketing or sales.
She just needs the confidence to do so.
I close my eyes and match her tone. “Virginia, it’s Elowen.”
A pause. “Elowen. Are you…” Her voice drops to a concerned whisper. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m calling professionally.” I cut her off before she can ask invasive questions. “I need to formally resign my position, effective immediately.”
“I see.” She clears her throat. “There are procedures for this, of course. Paperwork. I’ll need to transfer your files.”
“Yes, all my files are good to go. The Henderson proposal is ready for presentation. The quarterly reports are completed. There are notes on everything else in the shared drive.” My voice doesn’t waver.
“This is unexpected.” Another pause. “Julian hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“This decision is mine, not his.” The first crack in my professional veneer. I take a breath. “I’ve forwarded my resignation letter to HR. I’ve also transferred all relevant passwords and access codes to the department email.” Oh gosh. Julian never checks that thing. Guess he’ll have to learn.
“Do you want me to tell him you called?”
“Well, he’ll have to know since I’m not coming in, won’t he?”
“Right.” Her voice softens. “Elowen, are you… Is there anything you need?”
For a moment, I nearly break. The kindness is unexpected, unwelcome. Kindness makes space for doubt, and I can’t afford doubt right now.
“No, thank you. I appreciate your professionalism.”
“Of course.” She returns to her efficient tone. “I’ll process everything today.”
“Thank you, Virginia. Goodbye.”
I hang up and turn off my phone. Years of my life ended in a three-minute call. My hands are trembling so badly that I nearly drop the phone, yet my face tells a different story.
The next morning, I wake before the children do.
The stranger in the bathroom mirror has perfect hair.
Straight, shining strands that fall just past her shoulders in the exact style Julian approved.
“Professional yet feminine,” he called it.
It’s just right for the wife of Julian Plaza.
I lift my hand to touch this stranger’s face. She looks tired around the eyes.
I open the medicine cabinet and am in luck to find silver scissors. Fate has intervened, or more likely, my old travel kit.
I gather a chunk of hair and hold it taut between my fingers. The scissors are cool against my skin. I hesitate, just for a moment, hearing Julian’s voice: “Elowen, don’t be ridiculous. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you.”
I don’t listen. The first snip is terrifying, but the second is exhilarating.
Hair falls into the sink. About five inches of straight, perfect, Julian-approved hair. I keep cutting, not aiming for any particular style, but focused on freedom. With each release, I feel lighter. My head seems to lift higher without the weight.
When I finish, my hair just barely rests on my shoulders.
It’s slightly uneven—especially in the back; I’m afraid to look—and rough, but what I care about are the results.
My natural waves begin to emerge, likely from the moisture of my sweat.
Tomorrow, after showering, I won’t straighten it. I’ll let the curls return.