Chapter 2

The funeral was three days later, a blur of hushed voices and sympathetic faces.

After everyone left, a man approached me, someone I vaguely recognized from my hometown. David Miller.

He owned a chain of artisanal bakeries, successful, kind. He'd known my father, liked him.

"Sarah," he said, his voice gentle. "I'm so sorry about your dad. He was a good man."

We talked for a while, about my father, about the town we grew up in. He told me he'd quietly admired me for ten years, ever since I'd left for the city.

Then, he did something completely unexpected.

"Marry me, Sarah," he said, his eyes earnest. "Let me take care of you. Let me give you a good life."

I stared at him, shocked.

A life away from Alex, from the secrets, the constant feeling of being undervalued. A life where someone might actually care.

It was impulsive, desperate maybe, but the thought of a clean break, a new beginning, was a lifeline.

"Yes," I heard myself say. "In seven days."

A week. A lifetime away from Alex.

Alex, I knew, would be completely oblivious, he wouldn't even know my father died. He'd assume my leaving his office was just another one of my "moods," as he called them.

He never understood the chasm between his world and mine, the fact that his pocket change could have saved my father's life while I struggled.

The next day, my phone buzzed. A message from Jessica.

"Alex needs the quarterly marketing projections. He expected them yesterday."

The audacity. The casual cruelty of it.

I remembered Alex's voice, so many times, "Jessica handles these things, Sarah, don't bother me with details."

I typed back a short, polite message: "I no longer work for Mr. Thorne. Please direct your inquiries elsewhere."

A small, defiant act. It felt good.

Jessica's reply was instant, cold, efficient. "Noted."

The single word was like a slap, a reminder of how insignificant I was in their world.

I felt a fresh wave of pain, the futility of trying to make them understand.

I needed to get my things from Alex's penthouse, the final cut.