Chapter 3: The Goodbye

The sound of wheels rolling across the marble floor echoes faintly in the grand entryway of the Hale mansion. Lila watches as the chauffeur lifts her luggage with practiced ease, his white gloves pristine against the worn leather of her bags. He doesn’t say much—just a polite nod and a murmured assurance that everything is ready.  

Lila stands in the middle of the foyer, the grand chandelier casting its golden light over her. Her eyes drift to the table near the door, where the envelope containing the divorce papers rests. She picks it up, her fingers tracing the edges of the sealed document.  

This is it.  

She opens the envelope and pulls out the papers. Her name is printed neatly beside Adrian’s, the lines of ink carving out the end of something she had dreamed about for years. She reads over the terms one last time, her eyes lingering on the signatures. Adrian’s name is bold and resolute, a stark contrast to her own, which she had scrawled with a shaking hand.  

A bitter ache spreads through her chest as memories flood her mind.  

They’d grown up together, neighbors in sprawling estates separated by a single iron fence. Adrian was always confident, effortlessly charming, while she had been the shy girl who admired him from afar. They were friends, of course, but never anything more—not in the way she wanted.  

Her feelings for him had started in high school, though she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. Maybe it was the way he smiled when he talked about his ambitions, or the way he defended her when others teased her for being too quiet. But none of that mattered, because Adrian’s heart had already belonged to someone else.  

Kristina.  

Lila remembers the sting of watching them together, their laughter ringing out like a melody she couldn’t be a part of. She had told herself it was enough to be his friend, to stand beside him even if she couldn’t hold his hand. But when Kristina left him three years ago, breaking his heart and leaving him adrift, Lila had seen her chance.  

She had gathered every ounce of courage she possessed and confessed her feelings to him.  

“Let me love you, Adrian,” she had said, her voice trembling but determined. “I’ll prove to you that I can make you happy.”  

At first, he refused. He had been adamant that his heart wasn’t ready, that he wasn’t the man she deserved. But she had persisted, wearing down his defenses with her unwavering belief that they could make it work. Eventually, he agreed, though his acceptance had felt more like resignation than a declaration of love.  

Lila folds the papers and slips them back into the envelope. A bitter laugh escapes her lips. ‘How naive I was,’ she thinks. She had been so confident that her love would be enough, that it would heal his wounds and win his heart.  

But love doesn’t work like that.  

No matter how much she gave, no matter how many sacrifices she made, she couldn’t force Adrian to love her. Love isn’t about persistence or effort—it’s something that has to come freely, and his never did.  

The chauffeur clears his throat gently, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Mrs. Hale, the car is ready.”  

She flinches at the title. It feels wrong now, like a borrowed coat that no longer fits. She glances around the mansion one last time, her gaze lingering on the grand staircase, the polished floors, and the empty spaces where memories of the past three years hang like shadows.  

“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet. She picks up her coat and bag, walking toward the door with measured steps.  

At the threshold, she pauses. For a moment, she wonders if Adrian is somewhere inside, if he even knows she’s leaving today. Would he care? Would he try to stop her?  

She shakes her head, pushing the thought away. It doesn’t matter anymore.  

As she steps outside, the crisp air bites at her cheeks. The chauffeur opens the car door, and she slides into the back seat. The door closes with a soft thud, sealing her away from the life she’s leaving behind.  

As the car pulls away from the mansion, Lila glances out the window. Her heart feels heavy, the weight of unfulfilled dreams pressing down on her.  

‘I loved you, Adrian,’ she thinks. ‘But I can’t keep breaking myself to hod onto something that was never mine to begin with.’

The mansion grows smaller in the distance until it’s nothing more than a blur, and for the first time in years, Lila allows herself to let go.

The Montgomery mansion looms in the distance as the car glides up the winding driveway. Lila watches it grow closer, her heart sinking with each passing second. It had been years since she last stayed here—her marriage to Adrian had taken her away from her childhood home. Now, returning feels both familiar and foreign, like stepping back into a life she no longer recognizes.  

As the car comes to a stop, the front door swings open, and her mother steps out onto the porch. Dressed in a simple cashmere sweater and slacks, Evelyn Montgomery’s face softens with worry the moment her eyes land on Lila.  

“Lila!” Evelyn rushes down the steps, enveloping her daughter in a warm embrace the second she steps out of the car. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re home.”  

Lila stiffens for a moment before sinking into the comfort of her mother’s arms. The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla soothes her, but it’s not enough to stem the tears threatening to spill again.  

Evelyn pulls back, cupping Lila’s face in her hands. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”  

Inside, the mansion is as grand and warm as she remembers, with its sprawling staircase and crackling fireplace. Evelyn guides her to the sitting room, where a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits wait on the coffee table.  

As they sit, Evelyn wastes no time. “Tell me everything, Lila. What happened?”  

Lila’s fingers trace the edge of her teacup as she exhales shakily. “It’s over, Mom. Adrian and I are divorcing.”  

Evelyn’s brows knit together in concern, but she doesn’t interrupt. She simply listens as Lila recounts the events of the last few days, her voice steady but hollow.  

When she finishes, Evelyn sighs, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I’m so sorry, darling. I know how much you loved him. But maybe it’s for the best—”  

“Please, Mom.” Lila’s voice is sharp, her eyes pleading. “I don’t want to hear about Adrian anymore. Or… or Kristina.” Her lips tremble as she says the name. “I can’t stay here, pretending everything doesn’t hurt when it does. I need to get away.”  

Evelyn’s grip on her hand tightens. “Where will you go?”  

“I don’t know yet,” Lila admits, her voice softening. “But I can’t stay in New York. Everywhere I go, I’ll be reminded of him. Of us. And I can’t live like that.”  

Evelyn hesitates, her eyes scanning her daughter’s face. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”  

Lila takes a deep breath. “I was thinking… Paris.”  

Evelyn blinks in surprise. “Paris?”  

“It’s far enough from here,” Lila says, her tone resolute. “I need a fresh start, somewhere I can breathe without feeling like the walls are closing in on me. I don’t know how long I’ll stay. A year, maybe more. I just…” She swallows hard. “I need time to figure out who I am without him.”  

Evelyn’s expression softens, and she pulls Lila into another hug. “I understand, sweetheart. If that’s what you need, then you have my full support.”  

Lila nods against her mother’s shoulder, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. For the first time in days, she feels a small sense of relief—not because the pain is gone, but because she has a plan to start moving forward.  

Tomorrow, she will leave for Paris. And maybe, just maybe, she could leave her broken heart behind.