The plane ride felt endless, but a rush of excitement washed over me, eager to see my Uncle Julian, the man who' d raised me since my parents died. I pictured his welcoming smile, the scent of turpentine, the way he' d call me his "little artist." But the grand foyer greeted me with an unsettling silence instead of his usual classical music. Then I saw them: Julian, his hands covering a woman' s visibly pregnant stomach, his head bent, whispering, before a slow, tender kiss that shattered my world. My suitcase, filled with paintings for him, crashed to the marble floor, but the expected scream or tears never came. Instead, a chilling calm settled over me as I simply nodded, congratulating them both, while Julian stared, expecting a scene I' d given him countless times in another life. That vivid phantom memory, a brutal replay of past heartbreak where I' d screamed, pleaded, and ultimately lost everything – my art, my self-respect, my will to live – became my shield. It was a ghost, a warning. This time, I wouldn' t make the same mistake. This time, I chose to let go and disappear from a life that was never truly mine.
The plane ride felt endless, but a rush of excitement washed over me, eager to see my Uncle Julian, the man who' d raised me since my parents died.
I pictured his welcoming smile, the scent of turpentine, the way he' d call me his "little artist."
But the grand foyer greeted me with an unsettling silence instead of his usual classical music.
Then I saw them: Julian, his hands covering a woman' s visibly pregnant stomach, his head bent, whispering, before a slow, tender kiss that shattered my world.
My suitcase, filled with paintings for him, crashed to the marble floor, but the expected scream or tears never came.
Instead, a chilling calm settled over me as I simply nodded, congratulating them both, while Julian stared, expecting a scene I' d given him countless times in another life.
That vivid phantom memory, a brutal replay of past heartbreak where I' d screamed, pleaded, and ultimately lost everything – my art, my self-respect, my will to live – became my shield.
It was a ghost, a warning. This time, I wouldn' t make the same mistake. This time, I chose to let go and disappear from a life that was never truly mine.
Introduction
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Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
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Chapter 4
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Chapter 5
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Chapter 6
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Chapter 7
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Chapter 8
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Chapter 9
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Chapter 10
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Chapter 11
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Chapter 12
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Chapter 13
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Chapter 14
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Chapter 15
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Chapter 16
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Chapter 17
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Chapter 18
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Chapter 19
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Chapter 20
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Chapter 21
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Chapter 22
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