Trying To Leave Something Behind Novels & Stories

This was supposed to be simple. Work. Save. Leave. That was it. No distractions. No complications. No— You already have. The words landed again. Clearer this time. “No,” Arlo muttered under his breath, shaking his head once. “No, I haven’t.” He hadn’t. He couldn’t have. Because if he had— Then leaving wouldn’t be simple anymore. Arlo pushed himself back into motion, grabbing the next stack of linens. Faster now. Sharper. Controlled. He wouldn’t think about it.

Zanthe snarls in the back of my head, hackles bristling. “I’m going to miss you, babe,” he murmurs. “Thought we could have some fun on your last night before you leave. So, I’ve got something to remember you by… and you’ve got something to think about while you’re gone. Don’t want you forgetting about me.”

Beside it, I laid the black credit card Dante had given me, my wedding ring, and the signed divorce papers. These were the final remnants of a life I could no longer hold onto. The credit card, a gesture born of guilt. The ring, a promise never kept. And the divorce papers, my painful acceptance that we were truly done. Leaving everything behind like this felt necessary. A clean break. One that would finally allow me to start over. One more thing, then it’s done. I still needed to reach out to Maria for Mr. Buttons and my things. With one last look around the music room, I walked out and closed the door softly behind me.

I left them . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“We’re going back tomorrow. I’m sorry, I know we planned this, but there’s a business I have to attend to and it’s important. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as important as this honeymoon…” Finn talked too much and I knew he was up to something. “Okay, baby?” he prompted. I nodded, and he walked away with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. We were leaving tomorrow. That meant I had to figure things out now — how to disappear without leaving a trace. The only way out of this mess was to walk away. I had to leave.

By the time I got there, the event had just ended. I watched as Vivian, Liam, and Desiree left the building with bright smiles on their faces. Trying to maintain my composure, I said, "You must've had a long day, Desiree. I'm here to pick you up." To my surprise, Desiree instantly hid behind Liam. With a look of contempt, she snapped, "I don't want to leave with you! You're an uncultured person. I want Liam to be my dad instead!" I froze for a brief moment. Then, I recalled how strangely she'd been behaving recently.

His company, dragged down by its scandal-ridden CEO, had crumbled, its former glory long gone. Even across the bustling crowd, I could see his lips moving, as though trying to say something. But I had already turned away, stepping onto the plane without hesitation, leaving it all behind for good.

Placed it exactly where it was. Then I left her room. Downstairs, I grabbed my bag. Left a note on the counter. “Going home for a few days. Need space. I’m sorry. I love you both.” I walked out. The door closed behind me. Rain started falling again. Soft. Steady. I didn’t look back. But I felt the weight of everything I was leaving behind. The ruin. The love. The hope. All of it. And I kept walking. Because sometimes the only way to save something…

It would be to take what was mine. And leave the rest behind.

But she didn’t step back. She stayed standing. I woke with a quiet understanding. She had built me. And I had honored her. Weeks later, the Fellowship Council asked if I would record a message for the next cohort. Just one question. What would you tell women standing at the edge of leaving? I sat in front of a simple camera. No backdrop. No branding. “Leaving is not failure,” I said slowly. “It is often the first act of construction.” “If staying requires you to disappear, leave.”