Chapter 10: Back Home
949 Words
The city noise faded behind her as the cab drove through the quiet streets of her neighborhood. Ann leaned against the window, watching the houses pass by. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow across the sky. She was finally going home. Not just for a visit. This time, she wasn’t rushing back to the office or checking emails on her phone. This time, she was choosing peace and her mother.
The cab stopped in front of a small, pale blue house with flower pots on the porch. Ann paid the driver, stepped out, and took a deep breath. The air smelled different here cleaner, softer. It reminded her of childhood, of warm soup, bedtime stories, and hugs that made everything feel okay.
Her mom opened the front door before she even knocked.
“Ann,” she said, her voice full of emotion. “Hi, Mom,” Ann smiled.
They hugged, tightly, like neither wanted to let go. Her mom’s arms were thin but warm, and Ann held on, feeling a strange mix of sadness and relief. “I’m home,” she whispered.
Inside, the house looked the same cozy, a little old, but full of love. Ann dropped her bag and helped her mom to the kitchen. She looked a little weaker, a little slower, but still smiled like sunshine.
“I’ll make dinner,” Ann said.
“You must be tired.”
“I want to,” Ann replied. “You’ve done enough.”
They worked side by side cutting vegetables, stirring soup, setting the table. It felt natural, easy. Like the world outside didn’t matter. Over dinner, they talked. About everything and nothing. Ann left out the worst parts the heartbreak, the morning she woke up alone but her mom saw something in her eyes anyway.
“You’ve been hurt,” her mom said softly.
Ann nodded.
“But I’m healing.”
The next few days passed quietly. Ann helped her mom with medicine, doctor’s appointments, and house chores. She cleaned out old drawers, changed the curtains, and even fixed a leaky tap. She started going for walks every morning. Sometimes with her mom, sometimes alone. The fresh air helped clear her mind.
At night, she journaled. She wrote down her thoughts, her dreams, her regrets. It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes, the pages were smudged with tears. But every day, she felt a little lighter.
One morning, while watering the flowers on the porch, her mom came out with two cups of tea.
“You look better,” she said, handing Ann a cup.
Ann smiled. “I feel better.”
Her mom studied her for a second. “Are you really done with that man?”
Ann looked out at the street. Quiet. Calm. No fast cars. No tall buildings. No cold offices.
“I think I am,” she said. “I loved him… or at least, I wanted to. But I love myself more now.”
Her mom reached over and squeezed her hand.
“I’m proud of you.”
Ann didn’t know what the future held. She hadn’t started looking for another job yet. She wasn’t in a rush. Right now, her focus was here at home, with her mom. She cooked healthy meals. Took notes at doctor visits. Made sure her mom took her pills on time. Some nights, they watched old movies. Others, they talked for hours.
It wasn’t exciting.
It wasn’t dramatic.
But it was real.
And it was healing her.
One evening, her mom sat beside her on the couch.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Of course.”
“Do you still think about him?”
Ann didn’t lie. “Sometimes.”
“And?”
“And I wonder if he ever thinks about me.”
Her mom nodded, quiet for a moment.
“Maybe he does,” she said. “But thinking about someone doesn’t mean they deserve a second chance.” Ann leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“I know.”
As days turned into weeks, Ann started to see herself differently. She wasn’t just someone who had been hurt. She was someone who had survived. Someone who chose to walk away when it would have been easier to stay and suffer.That took strength and courage. And now, she wanted to build something new.
One morning, she pulled out her laptop and opened a blank document.
She titled it: My New Life Plan. She didn’t know exactly what would go in it. But she knew the first line:
Take care of Mom.
The second line came quickly:
Take care of myself.
And then, slowly, more lines filled the screen.
Start freelancing work from home
Learn something new every month
Travel, even if it’s just to the next town
Never forget who I am again
She printed the list and pinned it to the wall. It wasn’t perfect. But it was hers.
One afternoon, she got a message from Ethan
Hey! Heard from HR that you left for good. Just wanted to say—you’re missed. Hope you’re okay. You deserve the best.
Ann smiled and replied:
Thank you. I’m okay. Better than okay. I’m healing.
She paused for a second, then added:
I hope Richard is too.
Because healing wasn’t about hating the people who hurt you. It was about letting go.
That night, as the crickets sang outside and her mother slept peacefully, Ann sat on the porch alone. She looked up at the stars, her heart finally quiet. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid. Because she had herself and that was enough.
- Writer
