CAUGHT BETWEEN THE MIKEALSONS

CHAPTER EIGHT

LIYAH’S POV

I waited until the whole house was quiet.

It was almost five in the morning, and I had been awake for hours. My bag was beside me, already packed with a few clothes, my documents, some money, and my charger.

I stared at it for a long time.

I still couldn’t believe I was actually doing this.

I got up slowly and opened my bedroom door.

The house was dark.

I walked quietly through the hallway, trying not to make any noise. When I reached my mother’s room, I stopped.

I could hear her breathing.

For a moment, I almost turned back.

“Mom,” I whispered, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me.

Tears filled my eyes.

I wanted to go inside and hug her.

I wanted to tell her where I was going.

But I knew she would stop me.

So I picked up my bag and walked out.

The cold morning air hit my face as soon as I stepped outside.

I pulled my jacket closer around me and started walking.

I didn’t look back until I was far enough from the house.

When I did, everything looked so small.

I wiped my tears and brought out my phone.

I booked a VTC to the station and waited near the side of the road.

A few minutes later, a dark grey Peugeot pulled up.

The driver lowered his window.

“Bonjour. Liyah?”

“Oui.”

He nodded.

“Vous allez à la gare?”

“Oui, s’il vous plaît.”

He got out and took my bag from me.

“Merci.”

He put it in the boot and opened the back door.

I got inside.

The car was warm, and the quiet music playing from the radio made me feel even more emotional.

As we drove away, I kept looking out the window.

The streets were almost empty.

A bakery was just opening.

A man was pulling up the shutters of a small shop.

Everything looked normal.

Nobody knew I had just left my home.

Nobody knew I didn’t know when I would return.

The driver glanced at me through the mirror.

“Ça va?”

I forced a smile.

“Oui.”

He looked at me for a second longer before looking back at the road.

I turned towards the window.

I wasn’t okay.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

I looked at the screen.

Mum calling.

My heart dropped.

I stared at her name.

She called again.

I didn’t answer.

The call stopped.

Then another message came.

Where are you?

I couldn’t bring myself to reply.

I locked my phone and put it inside my bag.

The driver stopped near the station.

“Voilà.”

“Merci.”

He helped me with my bag.

I paid him and watched the car drive away.

For a moment, I just stood there.

People were walking past me, carrying bags and coffee cups, rushing to catch their trains.

I felt completely alone.

I checked my phone again.

This time, there was a message from Daniel.

Good morning, love. Are you awake?

My eyes filled with tears.

I wanted to tell him.

I wanted to tell him everything.

But if I told Daniel where I was going, he would come after me.

And I didn’t want anyone to stop me.

So I typed:

I’m okay. I’ll talk to you later.

I stared at the message before sending it.

It felt like a lie.

But I didn’t know what else to do.

I walked into the station.

My train was already listed on the departure board.

Paris.

I stood there looking at the word for a few seconds.

Paris.

The place Daniel and I had dreamed about.

We had talked about walking through the streets together, finding a small apartment, getting jobs and starting our lives.

I never imagined I would be going there alone.

I held my bag tighter.

Maybe this wasn’t the Paris I had dreamed about.

But it was still a chance.

A chance to escape.

A chance to make my own decision.

I boarded the train and found a seat beside the window.

As the train began to move, I watched the familiar streets disappear.

I didn’t know where I would stay when I arrived.

I didn’t know how I would find a job.

I didn’t know what I was going to do if my money ran out.

But I knew one thing.

I couldn’t go back home.

Not yet.

I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes.

For the first time, I was completely on my own.

And somehow, that scared me more than the marriage ever did.