Chapter 12

(Evelyn's POV)

I spent the next week in a blur. Days melted together in the hotel room. I ordered room service and didn't leave except to meet with Mr. Creighton's team for more paperwork.

My phone kept ringing from unknown numbers. Julian must have bought a dozen burner phones trying to reach me. I blocked each one and stopped answering calls altogether.

On day five, I received an email from my assistant.

"Ma'am, Mr. Hart came by the office today asking about you. He seemed very concerned. He said you weren't answering your phone and asked if I knew where you were staying. I told him I didn't know anything. He asked me to have you call him if I heard from you. Are you okay?"

I typed back: "I'm fine. Taking some personal time. If he comes back, tell him nothing. I'll be in touch soon about my resignation."

That evening, Mr. Creighton called. "We've completed the financial transfers. Evelyn Hart's bank accounts are now empty. Everything has been moved to accounts under your new name."

"And the credit cards?"

"Cancelled. Your new identity has fresh credit established. You'll receive the cards at your London address."

"What about my grandmother's trust fund?"

"Fully transferred. Julian never had access to it, so he won't notice it's missing."

Thank goodness for small mercies.

"There's one more thing," Mr. Creighton said. "Your final divorce papers came through. Julian signed them yesterday."

I sat down hard on the hotel bed. "He signed?"

"Apparently he had a meeting with someone who convinced him it was in his best interest."

"Who?"

"I don't know. But the papers are valid. You're officially divorced as of this morning."

Divorced.

Seven years of marriage, ended with a signature.

I should have felt something. Relief or sadness. Instead, I just felt numb.

"Thank you for letting me know."

"Evelyn." Mr. Creighton's voice softened. "Are you sure about this? About all of it? Once you get on that plane, once the erasure is complete—"

"I'm sure."

"You'll be leaving behind everyone you know. Your job, your friends, your entire life."

"I don't have friends," I said quietly. "My best friend was sleeping with my husband. My colleagues were his colleagues first. And my job—I gave up my career when I married him. There's nothing here worth staying for."

Silence.

"Then I wish you the best, Evelyn. Or should I say Lena?"

"Lena." I tested the name again. "Yes. Call me Lena."

***

On day twelve, I finally left the hotel room. Not to go to the apartment—I couldn't face that place again. Instead, I found myself driving to places that mattered before Julian consumed my entire world.

The first stop was my parents' grave. I hadn't been here in months. Julian always said cemeteries were depressing, so I'd stopped coming as often.

I knelt in front of their headstones, traced my mother's name with my fingers.

"I'm leaving, Mom." My voice cracked. "I'm going far away and I won't be back. Not as Evelyn anyway." I wiped at my eyes. "I wish you were here to tell me I'm doing the right thing. Or that I'm being stupid. Just... something. Anything"

The wind picked up, rustling through the trees overhead. I liked to think it was her answer.

"I'll be okay," I promised. "I have to be."

Next, I drove past our old college campus. The place where Julian had chased me for five years before I finally said yes. I parked across from the library where we'd had our first real conversation, back when he was just a persistent guy in my economics class.

I wondered what that version of me would think if she could see how it all turned out. Would she have said yes to that first date? Or would she have run the other way?

I didn't go inside. I just sat there, remembering the girl I used to be before I became Mrs. Hart.

My last stop was to see Rachel, one of the few friends I'd managed to keep despite Julian monopolizing my time. We'd been roommates in college before she moved across the country for work. She was back in town for the week, and we'd planned to meet up before everything fell apart.

I texted her: “Coffee? Need to see you before you leave.”

She responded immediately: ‘YES. The usual place in 20?”

The café was the same one we'd spent countless hours in during college, studying for exams and gossiping about boys who weren't worth our time. Rachel was already there when I arrived, waving from a corner table.

"Evelyn!" She stood to hug me, then pulled back with a frown. "You look terrible. What happened?"

I sat down, suddenly exhausted. "Julian and I are getting divorced."

Her eyes went wide. "What? When? Why?"

"He's been having an affair. For eighteen months. With Serena."

Rachel's mouth fell open. "Serena? Your Serena? Your best friend Serena?"

"That's the one."

"Oh my God." She reached across the table to grab my hand. "Evelyn, I'm so sorry. What a piece of shit. Both of them."

It felt good to hear someone else say it. To have my anger validated.

"I'm leaving," I told her. "Going to London in two days. Starting over completely."

"London?" Rachel blinked. "That's... that's huge. Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything."

She studied my face for a long moment. "Okay. Then I support you. One hundred percent." She squeezed my hand. "But you better stay in touch. I don't care if you're in London or on the moon. We're not losing each other."

I wanted to tell her the truth, that I was erasing my identity, that Evelyn Hart would cease to exist, that staying in touch might not be possible. But I couldn't. 

"I'll try," I said instead.

We spent the next hour catching up, carefully avoiding talk of Julian. When it was time to go, Rachel hugged me tight.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered. "You're the strongest person I know."

I wished I believed that.

On the drive back to the hotel, I made one more stop. The little bookstore on Fifth Street where I used to spend Saturday afternoons before I met Julian, and after. Before my weekends became about accompanying him to business dinners and company events.

The owner, Mrs. Dang , looked up when the bell chimed. Her face broke into a smile.

"Evelyn! I haven't seen you in ages. Where have you been hiding?"

"Just busy." I walked through the familiar aisles, running my fingers along book spines. "I'm actually leaving town soon. Wanted to stop by one last time."

"Leaving? For how long?"

"Permanently."

Her smile faded. "Oh. Well, that's... I'll miss seeing you around."

I picked up a book at random, one of those paperback romances with a couple embracing on the cover. The kind where everything works out in the end.

"I'll take this one," I said.

Mrs. Dang rang it up, then added a bookmark. "On the house. For your journey, dear."

Back at the hotel, I sat on the bed with my new book and the memories of my goodbye tour. I hadn't gone to see Serena. That bridge wasn't just burned, it was scorched earth. There was nothing left to say to her.

My phone buzzed with an email. Mr. Creighton, sending final instructions.

“Your flight departs at 8 PM tomorrow. A car will pick you up at 5 PM. Your new passport and identification will be waiting at the airport. Once you land in London, someone will meet you and take you to your apartment. Everything is arranged.”

I typed back: “Understood. Thank you.”

Then I turned off the light and tried to sleep because tomorrow, everything would change.