Chapter 8

I had thought that seeing familiar scenery again would leave me devastated.

But strangely enough, when I once more set foot on the streets of Ljubljana, I felt nothing but a strange sense of liberation—like I had finally exhaled after years of holding my breath.

Perhaps I had once been naïve, thinking that to be loved by just one person for a lifetime was the most important thing in the world.

But now, I knew better.

Freedom—the longing for it, the pursuit of it—that was what truly mattered.

And in the rhythm of solo travel, I found a kind of peace I'd never known before. I even made up my mind: I was going to explore all of Europe. Not someday—now.

And for that, I had to thank Levi.

Over the years, he had funded my lifestyle—my clothes, my rent, my food. The money I earned for myself had quietly stacked up, untouched. And he—ever the meticulous provider—had continued depositing generous sums into my bank account each month.

So now, to my slight amusement, I realized: I was a r