Chapter 10 - THE FINAL CURTAIN
One year after the divorce judgment was signed outside the King County Family Court, Seattle was once again wrapped in a light, autumn drizzle.
I sat in the back of my private chauffeur-driven car, looking out the window as we stopped at a red traffic light on a busy downtown avenue.
Across the street, outside a modest corporate office building, a man stepped out into the rain.
It was Julian.
He looked ten years older than his actual age. His shoulders were slumped, his cheap suit was dark with rain, and he held a faded plastic umbrella that was bending against the gusty wind. He carried a heavy stack of printed paper files, rushing toward a nearby public bus stop.
As he stood at the crowded bus shelter, waiting among commuters, he happened to look across the street.
Our eyes met through the rain-streaked glass of my car window.
Julian froze. His eyes widened, his hands trembling slightly as he recognized me. For a split second, I saw a tidal wave of emotion pass over his face—grief, desperate nostalgia, absolute humiliation, and a quiet, crushing realization of everything he had lost.
He took a slow step forward toward the curb, opening his mouth as if he wanted to call out my name across the busy avenue.
I didn't turn away. I didn't hide.
I looked at him calmly, with complete emotional neutrality. I felt no hate for him, no anger, and no remaining pain. He was simply a man standing in the rain—a ghost from a former life that no longer had any power over me.
The traffic light turned green.
My driver gently stepped on the accelerator, and the sleek black sedan accelerated smoothly down the wide, open avenue, leaving Julian, the bus stop, and the rain far behind in the rearview mirror.
Twenty minutes later, my car pulled up to the private airfield near Boeing Field.
A sleek, private gulfstream jet was parked on the tarmac, its engines quietly humming, ready for departure.
Clara was waiting for me at the foot of the mobile stairs, holding a digital tablet and a warm cup of organic tea.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Sterling," Clara smiled as I stepped out of the car. "The flight crew has completed all pre-flight checks. We are cleared for takeoff to Geneva."
"Thank you, Clara," I said, taking the tea and looking up at the clear sky above the cloud layer. "How is the international expansion plan looking?"
"The European trust foundation is completely established," Clara reported smoothly, following me up the steps into the luxurious cabin of the jet. "The international board members are eager to meet you at the summit tomorrow evening."
I settled into the deep, cream-colored leather armchair inside the cabin, looking out the window as the jet doors sealed shut with a heavy, satisfying click.
The aircraft began to taxi slowly down the runway, gathering speed, before lifting effortlessly off the ground, cutting cleanly through the gray Seattle drizzle and ascending high into the bright, endless blue above the clouds.
I took a quiet sip of my warm tea, pulled out my notebook, and opened a blank page to outline my next global project.
The heavy weight of the past five years was entirely gone, replaced by a fifty-million-dollar future, limitless freedom, and an unshakeable sense of self-worth.
May you like
I looked out the window at the endless golden sunlight stretching across the horizon.
The curtain had finally fallen on the past—and my real life had only just begun.
