Novel & Cerita Freedom: My Book Of Firsts

I stood at the doorway, watching the taillights of Shawn's car disappear into the night. It wasn't until Clementine pressed her tiny, warm body against me that I finally snapped out of the numbing cold. I held her tight and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then, I turned around and went back inside to start packing. Clothes, documents, Clementine's baby formula and vaccination records—one by one, I erased every single trace of my presence in this house. The moment I finished booking the plane tickets, I suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

The title read: "The First Generation of Free Choice." I smiled. History had begun writing itself again. And this time... No one was holding the pen.

I stayed silent. My mother sighed. She took a handwritten recipe book from the drawer and placed it into my hands. I flipped through it. Everything inside was my favorite dish. But food had to be eaten while it was hot. Six years had passed. The food had gone cold. People should move on too. I handed the recipe book back to my mother. “Mom, it’s just not possible for us anymore.” On the third day, I had just walked out of the residential area. The security guard came up with a troubled expression.

When I was little, I was poisoned by wolfsbane. My sister Fiona saved me. After that, she always said, "I saved your life. You should be grateful. Never forget what I've done for you." So whenever I had good food or pretty clothes, I gave them to her if she wanted them. When I turned eighteen, the pack chose a fiancé for me. Fiona told me, "Don't trust any man so easily. Let me check them out for you first. If they're not right, you shouldn't marry them." So she went on dates with those men on my behalf, from refined gentlemen to charming, outgoing guys. Every time she came back, she looked disappointed. "Zoey, this guy seems really shady. He's not right for you." "Zoey, this guy is all swee

Freedom. She sank into the sofa, closing her eyes, letting herself breathe deeply for the first time in what felt like years. Every tense muscle in her body loosened, and with each exhale, she released a fraction of the fear, guilt, and pressure that had clung to her for so long. The girl who had once been trapped, afraid to speak her mind, afraid to choose love openly, was gone. In her place stood a woman who had claimed her voice, her heart, and her life.

No one even knew who she was at first. "An immoral woman who had a child out of wedlock." "A mentally unstable drunk driver." "If you're sick, get treatment. If you can't be cured, then just die!" Quentin's words cut deep, each one like a knife to my heart. The person Quentin tore apart with his harshest words and judged with the most hatred was me—the woman he'd loved for five years—and our three-year-old Ruby. Quentin loved kids. That was exactly why, when I found out I was pregnant, I told him right away and decided to have Ruby, even though the pressure was overwhelming.

I even picked up skills I never bothered with at home, like cooking and giving massages, for him. I ignored my teachers' and parents' stern warnings, and even my best friend's frustration at my stubbornness. None of them mattered. All I cared about was staying by Derrick's side. I shook my head, pushing those memories away, and smiled at Crystal. "I called you here today because I need your help to draft a divorce agreement." Shocked by my words, Crystal immediately pulled me into her car. I listened as she rambled on, saying she would help me fight for more rights and free myself from that jerk as soon as possible. For the first time, I felt a sense of relief. Even the hurt of being abandon

The next day, I opened my old laptop that he had retrieved for me. It was dusty. Battery barely held a charge. But I opened a blank document and wrote one line. My name is Sarah. Then I wrote the next. And I’m still here, and I finally had some peace. Freedom isn’t a door you break down one day and never look back. It’s a thousand tiny choices. To wake up. To walk. To speak. To love. To trust again. And today, I chose all of it.

Sometimes she called me 'Mommy', and sometimes she called me 'Ida'. In the end, she went quiet, and Jamie took the phone. "Ida, can I bring Emma to see you in the future? I always thought she would never be able to speak, but she can talk to you. I..." "Of course, Jamie. I'm a mother too." As parents, we would do anything for our children. After that, I had a relatively peaceful stretch of time. Charlie also moved quickly, transferring the money into my account in batches. Because of Emma, I traveled back and forth between Oceanton and Linford.

I was tired of arguing and just wanted to escape them both. Caleb blocked my path, grabbing my wrist painfully tight. "You're not leaving until you apologize to Sheena!" "Let go!" I cried out, struggling against his grip and desperately wishing someone would help me. Just when I was about to lose hope, Caleb suddenly released me.