They Canceled My Ticket I Canceled Them Chapter 06
*Elena has left the group.*
The system message appeared on my screen.
After that, I blocked Marcus, Daniel, Tyler, and Madison’s numbers and deleted them from every social media platform.
Leaning back in my seat, I finally felt like I could breathe.
Four hours later, my plane landed in Chicago.
I took a cab back to the apartment Marcus and I had shared for three years.
At the door were the rabbit slippers Madison had left behind. Draped over the sofa was the wool blanket she always used when she felt cold. On the coffee table were her favorite snacks and the steam eye masks Marcus had bought for her.
She had left traces of herself in every room.
Very little of what was here belonged to me.
I went into the bedroom and pulled out a large suitcase.
The closet held only my in-season clothes. The bathroom, only a few bottles of skincare.
In the jewelry box lay the first necklace Marcus had ever given me.
I took it out. The silver chain had tarnished.
I used to treasure it because it represented a time when we had little. Now, I was just finally willing to admit that once something spoils, it doesn’t magically restore itself.
I threw the necklace in the trash.
Then I opened the desk drawer in the study and took out two envelopes I had prepared long ago.
The first held a signed breakup notice, along with paperwork authorizing my lawyer to handle my share of the apartment.
The second held a notarized revocation of all authority I had granted Daniel and Tyler as my medical proxies, emergency contacts, and secondary financial agents.
Last year, when we were arranging the mortgage, I had still listed Daniel on several legal documents. I still thought of him as family.
Now, my lawyer had already executed every change. The notarization was dated two weeks ago.
I placed both envelopes on the dining table. On top of them, I set the apartment key, the garage remote, and the key card that had once made me believe I finally had a home.
At the door, I looked back one last time.
I had lived here for three years. I had known them for ten.
Now, it was over.
The lock clicked softly behind me.
I rolled my suitcase into the elevator without a single tear, without leaving a single message.Â