The second he heard Renee’s name, Joel didn’t think twice—he rushed out without looking back.
Silence fell, leaving Lyra completely alone.
Ten minutes later, Lyra’s phone buzzed—a text from ReeRee Bliss.
[So what if you have thirty stitches on your head and lost vision in one eye? I don’t even have to cry, and he’ll come running to me.]
[Lyra, I was gone for a few years, but the second I said I wanted his baby, he agreed. You really think he doesn’t love me?]
Then came a video.
In it, Joel was holding a sobbing Renee, his eyes red and puffy.
“Shh… Don’t blame yourself. I promised to always protect you. Lyra just hurt her head—it’s no big deal. She won’t tell anyone you hit her. You’re pregnant now, so take care of yourself and don’t stress over this.”
Lyra watched in silence, her nails digging into her palms. Without another thought, she forced herself upright, got out of bed, and left the hospital alone.
Six hours left before she was gone for good. Lyra made her way to Everlight Cathedral and found the wish slip she’d written herself—the one that said, [I want to marry Joel and be his wife.]
She tore it down, the cold wind whipping past and scattering two old slips onto the ground. They were Joel’s.
The first one read:
[Marry Lyra Lebeau as my bride in five years.]
The second one made her breath hitch:
[As long as you come back, no matter when, I will always choose you.]
Of course. That one was for Renee.
Lyra let out a bitter laugh.
“Congrats, Joel Fenwick. You got exactly what you wanted.”
***
Back at the villa, Lyra’s phone kept buzzing with Renee’s petty texts. She ignored them, sitting at her desk to write a farewell letter. She set a photo of Vesper next to it, then grabbed her suitcase and headed downstairs.
She slipped off the engagement ring Joel had given her, placed it in a gray velvet box, and handed it to Colin.
“When Joel gets back, give this to him. Let him know there’s a letter on the desk.”
Colin’s face went pale—he’d noticed her taking off the ring earlier and knew something was up.
“Ms. Lebeau… are you leaving?”
Lyra gave him a faint smile.
“Thanks for looking after me all these years. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”
With a small wave, she wheeled her suitcase to the door and called a cab to the airport.
An hour later, at the airport entrance, her best friend, Poppy Pryce, pulled her into a tight hug, refusing to let go.
“Lyra, don’t you dare come back. Live your best life in Emmerica and forget that scumbag Joel ever existed!”
Lyra’s eyes were red as she hugged her back. She glanced over her shoulder at the city of Lindale one last time, tilting her chin up.
‘Goodbye, Lindale.
‘Goodbye forever, Joel.’
