Celeste should have felt relieved. Instead, she felt hollow. Her mother, Braden, and the rest of her family would have questions. Everyone would want to know why she’d returned early from a trip she’d looked forward to.
And she had no answers to give them.
She spent the Uber ride back home staring out the window, watching familiar landscapes blur past in the darkness. Rubyhad likely discovered the note and read Celeste's cowardly goodbye.
Maybe she was relieved. Or maybe she’d cried afterwards.
Celeste hoped it was the former. Anger was an easier emotion to handle than total devastation.
Her house was dark when she arrived and she fumbled for her keys, dropped them, then picked them up with hands that wouldn't stop trembling.
Inside, everything was exactly as she'd left it. Clean counters in the kitchen and her children’s items arranged tidily around. But the space felt different somehow, emptier, like the house itself knew she'd been changed and didn't recognize her anymore.
She dragged her suitcase to her bedroom and didn't bother unpacking. The thought of sorting through clothes that smelled like Ruby's shampoo, like hotel rooms and festival crowds and everything she'd lost, was unbearable.
She crawled into bed fully clothed and stared at the ceiling until exhaustion finally dragged her under.
Work on Monday was brutal.
Technically, Celeste was supposed to be on vacation. But sitting in her empty house, staring at the walls, unable to think of any other subject except Ruby—it was unbearable.
Work was the only thing that had ever helped when her life seemed out of control.
She had depositions scheduled, client meetings to drop by on, and a motion to draft. She went through all of itmechanically, saying the right things in the appropriate tone and taking notes in her clear handwriting. She presented the professional facade she'd perfected over years of practice, but it felt thinner than usual. As if anyone paying attention could see straight through it.
Wesley noticed. He was a younger lawyer she'd recently hired, hardworking and sharp, with closely cropped dark hair and perceptive grey eyes that missed nothing.
Now he was studying her with concern.
“You okay, boss?” he asked early that afternoon, poking his head into her office. “You seem a little off.”
“I'm fine.” She didn't look up from the contract she was pretending to review. “Just tired from traveling.”
“How was the trip to New Orleans?”
“It was fine.”
“Just fine? Come on, it's New Orleans during festival season. That's better than fine.”
Celeste finally looked up, forcing a smile that felt like it might crack her face. “It was great. I saw a lot of art.”
“You’re back really early. Weren’t you supposed to be gone until the next Monday?”
“Plans changed and I decided to come back.”
“Well, are you sure you're okay? You don't seem like yourself.”
“I'm just adjusting to being back. You know how it is after vacation, reality hits hard.” She turned back to the contract, dismissing him. “Was there something you needed?”
“The Hawthorne deposition got moved to Thursday. And Mrs. Charles called again about her estate planning.”
“I'll call her back. Thanks, Wesley.”
He lingered in the doorway for another moment before leaving. Celeste heard his footsteps retreat down the hall and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
The contract blurred in front of her. She'd read the same paragraph multiple times and still had no idea what it said.
All she could think about was Ruby's face when she had suggested keeping their relationship private. The way her expression had gone cold and closed off, right before she'd walked out without looking back.
