Chapter 3

3

That day, her rough, calloused hand held mine tightly. For the first time, I knew what it felt like to be wanted.

My parents fought constantly for as long as I could remember. I knew they didn't love me.

Nana was the driftwood I grabbed onto while drowning in a dark sea. She was my whole world.

I stumbled into the room. She was gone. She was covered in tubes and surrounded by blood.

She must have suffered so much in her final moments.

I never got to buy her that big house.

Suddenly, the tears came. I held her cold body and screamed until my throat was raw.

"Nana, let's go home."

I gathered her things and prepared to take her back to the countryside.

In the hospital, she was always whispering about going back to her roots. She didn't want to die in a cold, foreign city.

Even in death, I hadn't been able to give her what she wanted.

I was the selfish one for keeping her here just so I wouldn't be lonely.

I gave her a grand funeral. She loved a good crowd and never missed a chance to celebrate with the neighbors.

A week passed after the funeral. Quentin hadn't sent a single text.

I used to love him so much I lost myself. When I married him, I thought I had won the world.

Later, I learned he only married me because Ivy had a new boyfriend. He did it to spite her.

He expected Ivy to crash the wedding. She never showed up.

He spent three years tolerating me, only to run back to Ivy the moment she whistled.

But I was no better. No matter how much he hurt me, I always came back.

When Nana was first hospitalized, I traded a house for his promise to perform her surgery. It was the house I had saved up to buy for her.

He broke that promise for Ivy Thorne.

My love for him died the moment he failed to show up at the hospital. All those years of devotion felt like a bad joke.

A week after returning from my hometown, I took a long leave of absence. I wanted to take Nana's ashes to see the world.

When I was little, she always asked me what was on the other side of the mountains.

She asked if the ocean really went on forever, and what it felt like to fly.

I worked so hard just to fulfill her dreams. But then I met Quentin, and he became the center of my universe.

I had been willing to give him my life. I ignored his obsession with Ivy, telling myself that as long as he came home to me, it was enough.

That twisted need for love came from my broken childhood. I just wanted someone to choose me.

I poured all that hope into Quentin, and he wasted it.

I was packing my bags that evening when Quentin finally came home.

The house had been empty for two weeks. Dust covered everything, and the fridge smelled of rotting produce.

He started yelling the moment he stepped through the door.

"Valery! Is this how you keep a home? It's disgusting in here! I've been gone for two weeks, and this is how you welcome me?"

I thought about how he had been cooking and cleaning for Ivy. Here, he didn't even wash his own socks.

Our relationship had been a sinking ship from the start. I was just too slow to jump off.

I didn't look up. I didn't say a word. Nana's urn was on the table, and I kept packing.

He wasn't used to me being cold. His ego couldn't handle the silence.

"I'm talking to you! Are you deaf? Are you still throwing a tantrum because I stayed with Ivy?"

"You've dealt with it before. Why can't you just deal with it now?"

He kicked the bedroom door open. When he saw my suitcase, he let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"What? Running away? Go ahead. But don't you dare come crawling back crying for forgiveness. It's pathetic!"