“Should I start explaining the features, or do you want to just get a feel for it?” Brad asks, pulling me back to the present.
“Let’s drive,” I say, more confident than I feel.
The interior of the Subaru smells like new car. That mixture of leather and plastic that somehow signals “beginning.” I adjust the seat closer to the pedals than Brad had it and take a deep breath. My hands find the wheel, and I’m struck by how right it feels.
“Take a left out of the lot,” Brad instructs, buckling his seatbelt. “We’ll do a loop around town, hit some open road if you’d like.”
I nod, starting the engine. It purrs to life, smoother than the SUV I used before. That car was always his, even though only I drove it. He made sure I knew it, too. I had the plain car and he had the BMW.
This Subaru wagon is nothing like that SUV. It’s practical but stylish, with enough room for me to start getting all my books when I finally go back to the house to get them. Anthony offered to help me with that weeks ago, but I wasn’t ready. The thought of stepping back into that house, even with Eli locked away awaiting trial, made my skin crawl. But now, with my car, my freedom. It feels possible.
I navigate through the dealership lot and onto the main road, feeling the car respond to my touch. It’s responsive but stable, grounded. The exact opposite of how I felt for most of my marriage.
“Handles nice, right?” Brad says from the passenger seat. “This model’s really popular with people who want something reliable but still fun to drive.”
Fun. When was the last time I did something just for fun, just because I wanted to? Before Eli, probably. Butthese last months with Anthony have been reintroducing me to the concept. Like when he took me for a picnic on a private ocean-side trail a couple of weeks ago. I complained most of the hike down, but then he carried me the rest of the way. I wondered how he did it so easily all those nights he was hiding in the dunes. The view was amazing and the picnic he’d packed; he had made all the food himself. So it was worth it.
I make a right turn, following Brad’s directions, and catch sight of Anthony’s motorcycle in my rearview mirror. He promised he’d meet me here, said he wouldn’t miss this for the world. I’d told him I could handle it alone, that I didn’t need him to hold my hand through buying a car. He’d just smiled and said, “I know you can handle it. I just want to see your face when you drive it off the lot.”
Now he’s pulling into the dealership parking lot, right on time. Something warm unfurls in my chest at the sight of him. Five months, and I still get butterflies.
“Mind if we head back?” I ask Brad. “I think I’ve seen enough to know this is the one.” Never mentioning that I had seen this car online and had already come to this decision.
His face lights up at the prospect of a sale. “Absolutely. If you’re ready to talk numbers, we can get the paperwork started.”
I drive back to the dealership, parking in the spot marked “Customer Test Drive.” Anthony is waiting by his bike, helmet tucked under his arm, hair slightly mussed. He’s wearing dark jeans and a thin leather riding jacket, looking like every bad decision I should have made in my twenties instead of getting married.
“Hey,” he says as I climb out of the car. “How’s she drive?”
“Perfect,” I answer, unable to keep the smile off my face. “It feels right.”
“You look happy.”
“I am.” And I realize with a start that it’s true. Not just in this moment, but in general. Somewhere along the way, happiness has become my default state again, not something I have to chase or pretend at.
Inside the dealership, the paperwork goes quickly. I’ve saved more than enough to buy the car outright. No loan, no monthly payments tying me to debt. Just mine, free and clear. When Brad hands me the final form to sign, I hesitate for just a second.
“Second thoughts?” Anthony asks quietly from the chair beside me.
I shake my head. “No. Just... taking it in. This is big.”
“It is,” he agrees. “But you’ve got this.”
I sign my name, Lila Angelo, not Fischer, never Fischer again, and it feels like signing a declaration of independence.
An hour later, I’m driving my new Subaru out of the lot, Anthony following behind on his motorcycle. The sun hits the hood, and the paint shifts from blue to purple like it’s alive. I roll down the window, letting the spring air rush in, filling my lungs with the scent of possibility.
For the first time in a long, long time, the road ahead feels like an adventure rather than an escape route. And that, more than anything, tells me I’m finally heading in the right direction.
The printer hums steadily as I adjust the settings for Mrs. Chen’s latest batch of business cards. The familiar sounds of the print shop wrap around me like a blanket. Paper cutter slicing through stacks with a satisfying chunk, Valerie’s fingers tapping at the register keys, Mia’s voice greeting customers with practiced warmth. This place saved me long before I knew I needed saving. Before Anthony, before the masked man, before I found the courage to leave Eli. It was here, among the paper and ink and steady rhythm of ordinary days, that I first remembered who I was.
“Earth to Lila,” Valerie says, snapping her fingers near my face. “You’ve been staring at that same print job for five minutes.”
I blink, pulling myself back to the present. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
“About your stalker boyfriend bringing you flowers again?” There’s a teasing edge to Valerie’s voice, but I catch the undercurrent of something else. Five months, and she still hasn’t fully made peace with how Anthony and I started.
“He’s not my stalker,” I correct automatically. “He’s my... Anthony.”
