I was running away. Away from an abusive husband…a family that didn’t care what he did to me. Friends who told me that I should be grateful. He has money, so I should just listen and live my life not working about being paycheck to paycheck like I had been. What I didn’t know was that with finding my way into a small town, I would catch the attention of a family. This family is different though…and I don’t know if I like their attention or not. But ever time I am with them I tend to do impulsive things.
View MoreChapter 6The cabin was quiet. Almost too quiet. But I needed that—needed the stillness, the feeling of a fresh start surrounding me. I set my small bag down on the wooden kitchen table and let out a long breath. This was home now. No more cold stares from my family, no more flinching at the sound of footsteps, no more walking on eggshells to avoid his anger.I ran my fingers along the smooth counter, taking it all in. The warmth of the wooden walls, the slight creak of the floorboards beneath my steps, the scent of pine lingering in the air. This place wasn’t haunted by my past. It was mine.Moving to my suitcase, I pulled out the orange prescription bottle. My fingers hesitated on the cap before I twisted it off and shook out the small white pills into my palm. The familiar weight of them reminded me of all the nights I spent curled up, drowning in my own thoughts, heart pounding with panic. I tossed the pills into my mouth and swallowed them dry.The memories came unbidden.Daniel’
The drive out to the cabin was peaceful, the kind that made me feel like I was leaving the rest of the world behind. Tall trees lined the road, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the sunlight into dappled patterns across the gravel path. My fingers twisted in my lap, a mix of anticipation and nerves bubbling in my stomach. I hadn’t expected to find something I felt so drawn to so quickly.The real estate agent, Melissa, gave me a reassuring smile as she pulled the car into a small clearing. "Here we are," she said. "It’s even better in person, I promise."She wasn’t wrong. The pictures hadn’t done the cabin justice. It was nestled perfectly among the trees, the wooden exterior rich and warm in the afternoon sun. A stone chimney jutted up from the roof, and the front porch had a wooden swing that swayed gently in the breeze. It looked… perfect. Like home.My breath caught as I stepped out of the car, taking in the scent of pine and earth. This was it. This was where I wanted
Sitting across from the real estate agent, I watched as she flipped through a thick binder filled with rental listings. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, and the quiet hum of the office made the moment feel almost surreal. I was truly doing this—looking for a place of my own, somewhere safe, somewhere I could finally breathe."Alright, let's see what we have," she said, adjusting her glasses. "Most of the rentals in town are apartments or small houses, but I have a few options that might interest you."She slid a few sheets of paper across the desk. The first was a small one-bedroom apartment above the bakery. Convenient, but too close to the noise of town."This one is right in the heart of town," she explained. "It’s great if you like being near everything."I shook my head. "I think I want something quieter."She nodded and moved to the next listing. "Alright, how about this one? A little house on the outskirts, with a charming front porch and a tiny backyard. It's got a lot
The morning air was crisp as I stepped out of the motel, taking in the peaceful charm of Willowridge. The town was already awake, the scent of fresh bread wafting from the bakery, mixing with the rich aroma of coffee drifting from the diner. The streets weren’t crowded, but people moved about, greeting each other with warm smiles and easy conversation. It was a stark contrast to the life I had left behind.I walked leisurely down the main street, peering into the quaint little shops. A bookstore with a weathered wooden sign caught my attention, and I made a mental note to stop by later. A few doors down, a flower shop displayed vibrant bouquets in the window, adding splashes of color to the street. Everything about this town felt welcoming, almost as if it had been waiting for me to arrive.Then, my phone buzzed.I ignored it at first, unwilling to let anything disrupt the small moment of peace I had found. But then it buzzed again. And again. Reluctantly, I pulled it from my pocket a
The next morning, I woke up in the small motel on the edge of town. The bed was stiff, the blankets thin, but I had slept through the night without waking in fear. That alone was a luxury I hadn't known in years. I stepped outside, stretching in the crisp morning air. The town was just waking up, the smell of coffee and fresh bread drifting from the nearby bakery. The streets were quiet, only a few cars rolling down the main road. It felt peaceful, yet there was a certain energy here—something I couldn’t quite place. The town had a heartbeat, a rhythm that pulsed beneath its seemingly quiet surface. Deciding to explore, I made my way to the diner from last night. Linda greeted me with a warm smile. “Morning, hon. Decided to stick around a little longer?” she asked as she poured me a cup of coffee.“For a few days, at least,” I said, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “I still don’t know if I’ll stay for good.”Linda gave me a knowing look. “You wouldn’t be the first person to sa
I was running away. Not in the metaphorical sense—the literal one. My old Honda Civic sped down the highway, its engine groaning like it shared my exhaustion. Each mile put more distance between me and the life I’d left behind. The city that once felt like a bustling maze of possibilities had become a gilded cage. My ex-husband, Daniel, held the keys, and every turn was a dead end. Now, with nothing but the clothes in my suitcase and a half-tank of gas, I was finally breaking free.It wasn’t just Daniel I was escaping. It was the crushing indifference of my family, the pitying stares of so-called friends who thought I should be grateful. “He has money,” they’d say. “Why can’t you just be happy?” Happy. Like I could be happy with the bruises that lingered long after his apologies, or the cutting words that made me shrink until I barely recognized myself.The low-fuel warning chimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the dashboard clock: 10:17 PM. The highway stretched endles
I was running away. Not in the metaphorical sense—the literal one. My old Honda Civic sped down the highway, its engine groaning like it shared my exhaustion. Each mile put more distance between me and the life I’d left behind. The city that once felt like a bustling maze of possibilities had become a gilded cage. My ex-husband, Daniel, held the keys, and every turn was a dead end. Now, with nothing but the clothes in my suitcase and a half-tank of gas, I was finally breaking free.It wasn’t just Daniel I was escaping. It was the crushing indifference of my family, the pitying stares of so-called friends who thought I should be grateful. “He has money,” they’d say. “Why can’t you just be happy?” Happy. Like I could be happy with the bruises that lingered long after his apologies, or the cutting words that made me shrink until I barely recognized myself.The low-fuel warning chimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the dashboard clock: 10:17 PM. The highway stretched endles...
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