Chapter 4

I had finally made it to Wavecrest, a whole thousand kilometers from the hustle and bustle of Greenfield City. The ocean there was like a magnet to me—I could not get enough of it.

That was my first real adventure, a stark contrast to the life I had led, boxed in by my parents' strict rules, mastering the piano, strategy games, and painting—everything a Harris family heiress should know. There was no junk food, no trips to the amusement park, no hanging out with classmates.

However, I never fit that mold. I was not just some heiress. I was Amelia, a person craving her slice of freedom.

The marriage did not change that, nor did Jonah, who never showed me the world beyond our city. When Simon came along, my world shrank even more.

I had given thirty years to playing roles—wife, heiress. Then, it was time for me.

I decided to check into a hotel on a whim, all set to kick off my shoes and relax. But first, I needed to heal. The miscarriage had worn me out, making me feel weak.

The hotel became my sanctuary until Jonah's voice broke through on a phone call.

"Amelia, where's the herbal tea I drink every day?" His words caught me off guard. I took a moment before explaining, "There's no instant tea, Jonah. You have to brew it. The ingredients are in the first cabinet in the kitchen, pre-packed. Boil one pack for thirty minutes.

"If you run out, you'll have to visit the old pharmacy on the outskirts to get more..."

"Amelia." His deep voice cut me off mid-sentence.

"Why don't you come back and help me out? I'm lost here."

I almost laughed. Was Jonah serious? After everything?

"Jonah, we're divorced," I reminded him, my voice steady and composed.

That was new territory for us, and I had never shut him down like that before. However, times change, and so have I.

Every time he walked through the door after work, his face would light up with my welcoming smile.

Still smiling, I pressed his suit and waved him off in the mornings.

All my friends kept saying I was the near-perfect wife.

So why was I not perfect?

Well, because I was dull. Beyond those little acts of care, I did not do much else.

I ended the call abruptly and blocked Jonah's number. If we were done, it was time to cut ties for good.

Later that day, I got a call from Simon's school.

"Hi, is this Simon's mom? He's been in a fight with another student. We need you to come in."

Simon was a handful, and that was not his first clash with classmates. It was always me who had to sort things out.

I told him to play nice, but he always snapped back. "If someone's mean to me, I'm not just gonna stand there. I don't want to be a pushover like you!"

To him, I was weak—even though I was the one who had labored for three days to bring him into this world.

"I'm divorced from Simon's dad now. He's got custody, so you should really be talking to him."

Before I could process the teacher's response, Simon's voice cut in, "Dad, look, Mom really doesn't want us anymore.”

"We should go to Ms. Scott. She's more like a real mom."