---- Chapter 18 Chapter 18 Aimee Ramirez POV: | did something | hadn't done in five years. | acted on impulse. | cancelled my meetings, told my pilot to file a new flight plan, and rented a nondescript car at a small regional airport. | drove through the flat, open country of the Midwest, a world away from the canyons of Manhattan. The town was just as the report described: small, clean, unassuming. | found his business address. It was a small, cluttered office next to a lumber yard. A sign on the door read: "Matthews Construction: Building Homes, Building Futures." | sat in my car across the street, my heart pounding in my chest. What was | doing here? What did | want? An apology? An explanation? A final confrontation? | saw him come out of the office. He was laughing with another man, clapping him on the shoulder. He looked... peaceful. The haunted, desperate man | had last seen was gone. This man was grounded, solid. He got into a dusty pickup truck and drove off. On a whim, | followed him. He drove to a small, neat-looking house on the edge of town. ---- A woman came out onto the porch to greet him. She was pretty, with a warm, open smile. She kissed him, a simple, affectionate gesture that spoke of years of comfortable intimacy. A young boy, no older than four, ran out and launched himself into Kyle's arms. He swung the boy up into the air, his face alight with a pure, unadulterated joy | had never seen on him. Not even in our happiest moments. A family. He had a family. A wife. A son. A wave of nausea and a pain so sharp and sudden it stole my breath washed over me. | felt like a fool. A pathetic, lonely fool, still obsessed with a man who had built an entire new life without me. | put the car in drive and sped away, my tires squealing on the quiet suburban street. | didn't know where | was going. | just knew | had to get away. | had come here looking for answers, for closure. Instead, | had found a truth more painful than any revenge: my absence hadn't destroyed him. It had saved him.