Tears gathered in his eyes.
Mine never did.
That chapter of my life was already over.
A taxi pulled up beside the curb.
My suitcase was already in the trunk.
I had another flight that evening.
Dallas to Madrid.
A promotion had come through two weeks earlier.
International routes.
Higher pay.
A fresh start.
The driver held the door open.
I got inside.
Ryan stood on the sidewalk watching.
Helpless.
Small.
A stranger.
As the taxi pulled away, I glanced back one final time.
Not because I loved him.
Not because I missed him.
Only because I wanted to remember what freedom looked like.
And freedom looked exactly like this:
Leaving.
Without anger.
Without revenge.
