Chapter 6: A New Beginning

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In a town like Maple Heights, a woman starting over on her own was rare—and everyone would have an opinion about it. The paperwork alone could kill you.

If divorced, she could only take her things back to her family.

But my parents had died early. At eight, I was sent to live with my uncle and aunt.

So my so-called family was just my uncle and aunt’s house.

They lived in a faded ranch on the outskirts of town, their mailbox always crooked, the front yard cluttered with rusty lawn chairs. It never felt like home.

When I married, my uncle and aunt had already kept half my parents’ estate.

I didn’t want to go back.

Their eyes would have been full of questions, their words sharp and heavy. I could already picture my aunt clucking her tongue, asking what I’d done wrong to lose Marcus.

So I was in no rush to submit the divorce papers to the court, but went to see my godmother instead.

My godmother and my mom had been old friends.

Half my inheritance had come from her.

She lived in a tidy brick house with wind chimes on the porch and a fridge always stocked with lemonade. Whenever I visited, she made me feel like a little girl again, safe and understood.

"You and Marcus are divorced?"

I don’t know why.

When Marcus signed the divorce papers without a second thought, I didn’t cry.

When I left the Ellison house alone with my suitcase, I didn’t cry.

But now, with just a gentle question from my godmother, my tears fell all at once.

She set down her knitting, arms open wide. I crawled into her lap like I was five years old again, sobbing into her soft sweater.

"Don’t cry, don’t cry. It’s good to be divorced, it’s good."

She handed me a mug of chamomile tea, the steam curling between us. Her hands were warm, callused from gardening, but gentle as she stroked my hair. "You deserve better, honey."

"That jerk’s affairs—who in town doesn’t know!"

I quietly rested my head on her knee, gently wiping away my tears.

Her living room smelled like cinnamon and fresh-cut flowers. She handed me a tissue, her eyes shining with fierce love.

"Now that you’re divorced, what are your plans?"

In truth, I rarely troubled my godmother with my problems—

Whether it was hardship with my uncle and aunt or my unhappiness after marrying Marcus.

She was busy with her own life; I didn’t dare burden her.

But this time, I told her everything.

I sat up and said:

"So before I find someone suitable to marry again, I must trouble you for a while."

"If my uncle and aunt refuse…"

"You’ve decided to remarry?" she suddenly asked.

I nodded.

If I had to go back to my uncle’s, I’d rather remarry.

But this time, I would not fall in love, would not get attached, would not hope for happiness—

Just a place to settle down.

She seemed to see right through me, suddenly slapping her thigh:

"I happen to have an excellent candidate!"

She grinned like a matchmaker at a summer wedding, already plotting the future in her mind.