5. A New Beginning That Hurt to Breathe

Lena's POV

The plane touched down and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

Not because I was scared of flying. Because this was real now. This was not a threat or a plan or a maybe. I had left Los Angeles behind. I had left Ethan Blackwood behind. The man with black hair and green eyes and tattoos that once made me feel safe when his arms wrapped around me now lived only in memory.

I stayed seated long after others stood. My hands were clenched in my lap. My chest hurt in a dull steady way that had nothing to do with the flight. I had no family waiting for me. No arms to fall into. No safety net.

Just me.

I picked up my bag and stepped off the plane.

The airport was small. Quiet. Nothing like the chaos I was used to. No flashing lights. No luxury lounges. No assistants rushing around. Just tired travelers and locals who nodded politely and minded their own business.

Good.

I needed invisible.

Outside the air smelled different. Salt. Cold. Clean. The ocean wasn’t far. I could feel it even before I saw it. This town wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Wooden buildings. Old trucks. People who looked like they had lived their whole lives here and were proud of it.

This was where people disappeared without being chased.

I rented a small car and drove toward the town itself. The road curved along the coastline. Fishing boats bobbed in the harbor. Nets hung drying in the morning sun. A hand painted sign welcomed me with the town name written in peeling white paint.

I swallowed hard.

This was it.

I parked near a diner and just sat there for a moment with my hands on the steering wheel. I didn’t cry. Not yet. I had cried enough on the plane. Quiet tears sliding down my face while strangers pretended not to notice.

I had no one to call and say I arrived safely.

That realization hit harder than I expected.

I had grown up without parents. Without siblings. Without a safety net. Ethan had been my family. His parents. His home. His world. And now I stood alone again like the little girl who learned early not to expect anyone to stay.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I stepped out of the car.

The town felt alive in a soft way. Not loud. Not rushed. A fisherman waved at me like it was the most normal thing in the world. A woman walked past carrying groceries and smiled without knowing who I was.

No one here knew me as Ethan Blackwood’s wife.

I checked into a small inn near the docks. The woman behind the counter had kind eyes and didn’t ask too many questions. She slid a key across the counter and told me breakfast was at six if I wanted it.

I took the key and thanked her.

The room was small and clean. A bed, a window, a chair. I dropped my suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted in a way sleep could not fix.

This was my new life.

I lay back and stared at the ceiling.

Memories flooded in without permission.

Ethan’s laugh when I teased him about his tattoos. The way his green eyes softened only for me. The way he used to tuck my hair behind my ear before bed. The way he promised he would never hurt me.

I pressed my fist to my mouth as my chest tightened.

I loved him. God help me I still did.

But loving him had nearly destroyed me.

Tears came then. Quiet at first. Then heavier. I curled onto my side and let them fall into the pillow. I cried for the girl who believed love was enough. For the woman who signed divorce papers without begging. For the life I had built and lost in a single night.

I cried because I had no family to tell me I would be okay.

And I cried because even without them I still stood up and walked away.

When the tears slowed I sat up and wiped my face. I wasn’t done I didn’t come here to fall apart forever.

I unpacked my clothes slowly. Folding them neatly. Claiming the space making it mine. I hung a sweater in the small closet and felt something shift.

I was still here.

That mattered.

Later I walked down to the docks. The sun was lower now. The water dark and endless. I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself and stood watching the boats come in.

A man nearby laughed loudly with his crew. A woman called out a name. Life continued. It didn’t stop just because mine had cracked open.

I wondered what Ethan was doing.

If he had woken up and noticed I was gone If the house felt empty to him the way it haunted me at night. If he missed me at all or if pride still kept him blind.

I pushed the thought away.

He chose this I chose me.

A woman passed by and nodded. “You new here?”

“Yes,” I said.

She smiled. “You’ll like it. People mind their business.”

I smiled back faintly. “That sounds perfect.”

When I returned to the inn the sky was dark. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing deeply.

I had no plan beyond surviving. No job yet. No friends. No family.

But I had something else freedom.

Painful. Lonely. Hard earned freedom.

I lay in bed that night listening to the distant sound of the ocean. It reminded me that the world was bigger than one man. Bigger than one heartbreak.

I wasn’t weak for leaving I was brave.

And somewhere deep inside I knew this small fishing town was not my end.

It was my beginning A beginning that hurt to breathe.

But a beginning all the same.