The car pulled into the airport parking lot, and I slid my black shades onto my face before stepping out. Emma stood beside me, her expression filled with dread ever since I told her I was leaving Canada for Paris. I knew she wanted me to stay, but I couldn’t. My life had become too chaotic, and staying any longer felt like drowning in a sea of constant situations that I can't control.
As a public figure, normal life was a distant memory. The flashing cameras, reporters hounding me with questions, it never ended. And I needed peace, far from it all.
“Are you sure about this?” Emma asked again, her voice laced with worry, as if the repetition of the question might change my mind.
“You know I have to leave,” I said, pulling up the hood of my hoodie to cover my head. “I can’t go back to be
