Hours slipped by inside the RISD Museum, surrounded by works that once ignited my passion. Brush in hand, I felt the weight of Zaldy’s authority finally lift. For the first time, my art belonged solely to me.
Night had fallen before I noticed the ringing phone.
Zaldy.
I answered without softness. “What do you want?”
“Where are you?” His voice was low and controlled, laced with anger. “You should be home.”
“My whereabouts are no longer your concern, Don Corell,” I replied evenly.
“How long are you going to keep this up?” he snapped. “Is this about the card? Stop playing games with the divorce. You won’t last without me.”
I inhaled slowly. “I already am,” I said—and ended the call.
I blocked his number.
Seconds later, a message slipped through from another line.
[Zaldy: Come back now, or I will drag you home.]
I typed a single reply.
[Sami: Never.]
With one final motion, I cut him out of my life completely.
For the first time, I belonged to no Don, no family, no shadow but my own.
And I was free.
