Chapter 7
Eliana sat alone in the garden until nightfall, finally managing to piece herself back together.
When she walked back into the house, she found Milo passed out on the couch–Jake and Ryan had already left.
He was completely hammered, mumbling Harper’s name over and over in his sleep.
Eliana listened quietly, then pulled out the scorecard and crossed off another 5 points.
Instead of taking care of him like she always did, she started packing.
All the gifts Milo had given her, photos of him she’d treasured, the matching coffee mugs and slippers she’d bought for them….
Everything connected to him went straight into trash bags.
She worked through the night, systematically erasing three years of her life. When Milo woke up the next morning, half the living room was empty.
“When did you get out of the hospital? Why is half our stuff gone?”
“Last night. Couldn’t sleep, so I got rid of some clutter we don’t use anymore.”
Hearing her flat response, Milo looked around, clearly confused. “Don’t use? All this stuff–how do we not use it?”
Eliana was about to answer when his phone buzzed.
“Milo, do you have time to come with me to my follow–up appointment today?”
He immediately perked up. “Yeah, of course.” He jumped up to shower and rushed out without another word.
Watching him disappear through the door, Eliana quietly finished his sentence: “Because I’m done pretending any of this was real.”
Over the next few days, Milo was a ghost. But through Harper’s constant Instagram stories, Eliana saw them everywhere–shopping on Fifth Avenue, dinner at trendy spots, movies in Times Square.
She felt nothing. She stayed laser–focused on packing, shipping her real belongings to LA piece by piece.
On the anniversary of her father’s death, she dressed in black and ordered flowers, about to leave when Milo walked in.
“Today’s Professor Hart’s memorial day. I’ll drive you to the cemetery.”
They’d done this together every year. Eliana didn’t bother refusing and got in his car.
The drive was dead silent.
At Woodlawn Cemetery, they each stood before the granite headstone.
Looking at her father’s kind smile in the engraved photo, Eliana knelt down and spoke from her heart.
“Dad, I’m divorcing Milo and moving to LA to build my fashion company. I know you’d be proud of me for finally choosing myself. You worried about me so much before you died–that’s the only reason you asked Milo to look after me. But I don’t need looking after anymore. I’m done being small, done being grateful for scraps of attention, done trying to earn love that was never mine to earn. I’m going to build something beautiful with my own hands, and I’m going to be amazing at it. I’m going to remember who I was before I lost myself trying to be enough for someone who was never available.”
Her words carried a fierce determination that/surprised even her. After three years of quiet suffering, she was finally done.
After sharing her truth with her father, rain started falling.
They headed down the mountain without lingering.
On the drive back, maybe noticing her unusual calm, Milo tried to reach out.
“I know today’s always hard for you. But your dad’s at peace now. I’m here for you–if you need to talk through anything, you know you can tell me.”
3.8%
Chapter 7
liana almost laughed. Here for her? When had he ever actually been here?
She took a breath, about to finally say what needed saying, when his phone exploded with sound.
“Mr. Blake, emergency! Ms. Lennox was in a car accident she’s in the ER right now!
The change in Milo was instant and brutal. He slammed the brakes so hard Eliana’s seatbelt cut into her chest.
“Eliana, you’ll have to get yourself home.”
The panic in his voice–panic he’d never shown for her, not even when she’d been crushed by a chandelier–was the final nail in the coffin.
Eliana calmly opened the car door. “Of course I will,”
She stood in the rain with her umbrella, watching his Tesla disappear into the distance, and felt the last piece of her heart that had belonged to him simply… stop.
No anger. No tears. Just pure, crystalline clarity.
She opened her phone to call an Uber, but the wind picked up violently, turning her umbrella inside out.
She struggled to control it, head down against the driving rain, and never saw the sedan that had been trying to navigate around Milo’s abandoned car.
The impact sent her flying across the wet asphalt.
Rain pounded her face as blood pooled beneath her, but even as consciousness slipped away, her last coherent thought wasn’t about Milo.
It was about the fashion studio waiting for her in LA, and how she’d never get to see what she could have become.
Not once did she hope he’d come back for her.
She was finally, completely done hoping for Milo Blake.
D
