Just walk straight to the van, throw my bags in the back, and climb into the seat.
Hakon and Ulf are right behind me.
They load the boxes quickly, silently, then pile into the front seats.
Hakon starts the engine.
Pulls away from the curb.
And just like that, it's over.
Two years of my life.
Gone in thirty minutes and a single shove.
"You okay?" Ulf asks, twisting around to look at me.
"I don't know." I stare out the window, watching Trisha's house disappear behind us. "I think so? That was... a lot."
"You handled it like a boss," Hakon says. "Seriously. I've seen men crumble under less pressure than that."
"I've never shoved anyone before."
"She had it coming. The second she grabbed you—" He shakes his head. "You showed restraint, honestly. I wanted to deck her."
"Same," Ulf agrees. "Those girls are toxic as hell. How did you live with them for two years?"
"I don't know. I guess I thought I deserved it? Or that it was normal?" I lean my head back against the seat. "It wasn't until Gunnar—until I saw how he treats me—that I realized how fucked up it was."
"Well, you're out now. That's what matters."
"Yeah." I close my eyes. "I'm out."
The rest of the drive passes in comfortable silence.
Hakon puts on some music—classic rock, nothing too loud—and I let myself decompress.
Let the adrenaline fade.
Let the reality of what just happened sink in.
I stood up for myself.
Didn't crumble.
Didn't let their words destroy me.
For the first time in years, I feel like maybe I actually am the person Gunnar sees when he looks at me.
Strong.
Worthy.
Capable of fighting back.
By the time we pull into the compound, I'm almost calm.
Almost.
