Dear Hubby, Bro & BFF. You All Watched Me Break? Now Watch Me Leave Chapter 10
By spring, wisteria spilled over the wall of my old cottage while I sat in the yard drawing.
My new picture book about a little rabbit was almost ready for publication.
I could sleep with my bedroom door closed now, though I still kept the window slightly open.
I had finally understood that safety had never depended on whether a door was locked. It came from knowing no one was waiting outside to use my fear against me.
Every now and then, I heard updates from people I used to work with.
Paige had been dismissed from her graduate program.
The State Board of Professional Counselors found that she had conducted psychological interventions without proper qualifications and barred her from practicing counseling in the state.
She returned to her hometown and reportedly found a job at the front desk of a beauty salon.
Colin never came looking for me again.
After the divorce, he requested an overseas assignment from his company and moved to a remote work site.
He stopped socializing, didn’t date, and buried himself in his work.
—
I never contacted Derek again either.
I heard that he eventually told our parents the truth. They tore into him, and he didn’t try to defend himself. After that, he never attempted to contact me again.
One day in early summer, a package arrived with no sender’s name.
It had been sent from a city overseas.
Inside was a picture book. The cover showed a house with every door and window wide open.
In the blank space on the final page, someone had written a message in pencil.
[May every door in this world open for you and never trap you again.]
I stared at the words for a long time before closing the book and placing it on my shelf.
At dusk, I rode my bike into town to buy a mint plant.
On the way, I passed through a narrow lane hemmed in by walls on both sides. Six months earlier, it would have sent my heart racing. Now I simply pedaled a little faster and rode through without trouble.
The woman at the garden center greeted me with a smile.
“Natalie! I just got some new rosemary plants in today!”
I laughed and waved a hand.
—
“Let me keep the mint alive first.”
People moved around me, coming and going. No one knew what I had been through, and no one asked.
Here, I was simply another person living in town.
A light rain began to fall on my way home, but I didn’t try to avoid it. I rode through the drizzle as the mint plant in my basket grew damp and released its fresh scent.
I took a deep breath.
I was home.
When I pushed open the garden gate, the porch light was glowing beneath the eaves.
I planted the mint in the window box, watered it, and closed the gate without locking it.
No one would ever lock me in from the outside again.
True safety wasn’t having someone remove the locks for me. It was finally being the one who decided whether the door stayed open or closed.