Sereia's POV
T W OÂ M O N T H SÂ L A T E R
I hummed a random tune as I planted my sunflowers in the ground.
It's been two months since I packed my things and left Chicago.
Things were very different over here in Maine, just like I expected.
The air is always tinged with the salty tang of the sea for starters, and it's very slow compared to the fast pace of Chicago.
The small town I settled in was filled with charm and helpful people.
Oh, and the coastline is breathtaking. It's a rugged, ever-changing stretch where the land meets the Atlantic in dramatic fashion with lighthouses everywhere.
I've also changed quite a bit.
I've decided to let go of Violet. I won't forget her, but I'm putting myself first.
No more dedicating my life to avenge my dead sister.
I even tried to become blond again, but when I saw the roots, I immediately died them back.
That blond girl is gone. She's changed into a strong, rich, independent woman.
I've stopped crying in the dark as a form of punishment. If I wanted to cry, I'd cry with the lights on.
Crying isn't a bad thing, but torturing myself in the dark is.
Elliot's advice stuck with me through the weeks.
We haven't spoken since I slammed the door in his face.
I just felt like I was holding him back and thought that each time he saw me, it would be a constant reminder of how much of a liar I am.
And I was right, I was keeping him back.
He and his new director have been making headlines after headlines, capturing the attention of the finance and business world.
Just last week, Harrington Financial Group shattered expectations and broke a long-standing industry record by securing the largest merger in the company's history.
The deal, worth billions, sent shockwaves through the market, solidifying their position as a dominant force in the financial sector.
I felt happy for him. He is a very ambitious man after all.
However, he's changed.
He let his beard grow out, its rough edges framing a face that had forgotten how to smile.
In every picture taken now, there was no hint of the easy grin he once woreâjust a stern, distant expression that seemed to mirror the changes in his life.
Sometimes I sit for hours at a time staring at his pictures, wishing I could see his smile again.
My body sometimes craved him at night, missing every touch and kiss he used to give me.
I'm still lonely.
Apart from gardening and taking afternoon walks along the coastline, I'm still that single, jobless 24-year-old.
I had already started to feel bored of the slow-paced life.
I missed the rush of everything.
I missed my job.
I missed him.
After everything that happened, I still haven't been able to feel the happiness I get whenever I'm with him.
And I fear that I won't find anything even close to how he made me feel.
We had barely been with each other, yet I miss his presence so deeply.
I wonder if he felt the same way.
My phone rang and I picked it up.
"Baby," I heard my mother's voice cry over the phone. "I don't know where I am. Come pick me up."
I have not seen nor heard from her since the day of my father's funeral and this is the first thing she says?
She's my only living family member now, so I guess I have to tolerate it.
"Mom, I've moved out of Chicago," I said as I stood up from the ground. "I'm in Maine now."
"Please, come get me," she cried.
I sighed. "You have to promise me that when I return, you will allow me to check you into a facility."
She stayed quiet on the other end.
"Mom?" I called her.
"Okay baby," she agreed. "I'll do it."
...
"Are you sure I have to go, baby?" she asked me as we stood outside of the treatment facility for drug users.
It was quite easy finding her because she had already found her way back to our old house by the time I landed.
"This is what Dad would have wanted," I told her and she sighed. "When you get sober you can come and live with me in Maine. It's a one-bedroom cottage, but we will manage."
She hesitated as the nurse waved to us.
I had already registered her and paid for everything.
"Go on," I told her. "I'll be standing right here when you're released."
She hugged me tightly and I hugged her back.
"I'm really sorry for all the pain I've caused you over the years," she cried. "You still became a lovely young woman without my guidance."
I smiled as I pulled away from our hugs. "Thank you, mom."
"I love you," she cried.
"I love you too," I continued to smile as she kissed my cheek before heading to the nurse.
The bright smile remained on my face as I turned away and began walking back to the waiting taxi driver.
I gave him the address to my father's house before he took off.
As the taxi drove through the city, I thought about him.
It was kind of hard not to think about him when his photo was plastered everywhereâon billboards, magazines, and even the side of buses.
This is his city.
Every corner, every street seems to carry his mark, a reminder of the man who once meant everything to me.
It's as if his presence is inescapable, woven into the very fabric of the city itself.
Being here, surrounded by constant reminders of him, makes it impossible to forget how much things have changed between us.
How we aren't lovers anymore.
It makes me sad because over these two months I've spent away from him, my heart ached for him.
I love him.
I do. That's why I need to keep my distance from him.
He can never be with a fraud like me.
Even though I've changed a lot over the past two months, my mind hadn't.
My mind continued to think about him for the thirty minute drive, before I forced myself to stop thinking when we stopped in front of my childhood home.
"Thanks," I said to the driver as he helped me take my suitcase out of the trunk.
I then slowly made my way to the house.
The last time I came here was when dad passed and stormed out to get revenge.
Oh, how my rash decision changed so many things.
Maybe Elliot wouldn't have gotten mad at me and fired me. Maybe he and Olivia would've still be happily married.
Maybe.
Maybe I am the cause for his sudden inability to smile in pictures now or that beard he has grown.
I hated how I ended things with him.
At the time, it was the easiest way to get him to forget about me.
However, it was not easy having to set the man you love free so that he could be happy.
It hurt and I know it hurt him too.
Maybe, just maybe, I could apologize to him and let this unspoken ache between us go.
It was time to set him free.
Forever.