I zipped my suitcase shut. The room was so quiet that I could hear nothing but my own breathing.
Then, my phone buzzed, and the familiar name flashing on the screen made my fingers tremble.
I accepted the call.
"Hello?" My voice came out hoarse.
Felix's voice came through, stripped of all the warmth it once held, leaving only cold fury. "Joanna! Jocelyn's in the hospital, and you can't even bother to show up? Not even an apology?"
His tone was as sharp as a blade, cutting through any chance I had to explain.
I pressed my lips together, staying silent for a moment before finally saying, "Felix, I'd never play with someone's life."
But he wasn't listening. His voice grew even colder. "Stop lying! Jocelyn would never, ever risk her own life!"
I tightened my grip on the phone, my knuckles turning white as a wave of bitterness welled up in my chest.
Why wouldn't they even hear me out?
From the very beginning, all they ever wanted was a "culprit" to blame.
I took a deep breath, keeping my voice low as a barely audible choke caught in my throat. "Felix, do you believe me?"
A brief silence hung on the line, but his words poured over me like ice water in the next second. "I only believe what I see."
With that, the line went dead, replaced by the flat drone of a busy signal.
I set my phone down slowly. A crushing feeling weighed on my chest.
I closed my eyes, and memories from the past few years came rushing back.
On our dates, he'd always respond to Jocelyn's texts in a heartbeat, then give a small chuckle and say a familiar line, "She gets scared when she's alone."
At dinners, he never remembered what I couldn't eat, but he could name all of Jocelyn's favorite dishes perfectly.
Whenever we argued, he'd shut me down with the same excuse. "You're overthinking it. I'm just looking out for your sister."
Even my family took his side, saying I was controlling and asking me to stop being so petty.
I used to think Felix was my salvation—someone different from my family.
Now, I saw the truth. He was just one of them.
I opened the drawer and pulled out the documents I'd prepared long ago. The email from my advisor, Dr. Robinson, confirming my acceptance into the Doctors Without Borders program in Southaven popped up on my phone screen.
I'd already packed my visa, flight ticket, and certifications in my suitcase.
This time, I was really leaving.
Just as I dragged my suitcase toward the door, my parents' voices drifted from the living room.
Mom's tone held a trace of regret. "If only we'd let Jocelyn and Felix get together back then. With her charm, she would've been the perfect mafia boss' wife.
"It's just a shame that his brother, Frederick Wright, was still in charge at the time. Who could've guessed he'd kick the bucket and Felix would end up taking over?"
Dad replied with a note of relief in his voice, "It's better this way. Those mafia families thrive on bloodshed and violence. It would've been too dangerous for Jocelyn. Gunfire, betrayal, assassinations—there's no escaping any of it when you marry into the mafia.
"It's much better to let Joanna take that role. Besides, Felix treats Jocelyn well now."
I froze, a sharp chill stabbing through my chest.
So that was it. To them, my marriage, my future, and even my entire life were nothing but a pawn to protect Jocelyn.
I clutched the suitcase handle, my knuckles turning white from the force. A fierce resolve I'd never felt before surged through me.
I took a deep breath and yanked the door open.
Their conversation came to an abrupt stop. They looked up at me, startled, as if I were the last person they expected to see.
"Joanna, where are you going?"
I met their eyes, my fingers slowly tightening around the handle of my suitcase. For the first time, there wasn't a hint of pleading in my gaze.
Joseph was the first to snap out of his shock. His eyes were sharp with suspicion and hostility, like a prosecutor staring down a criminal.
"Are you running away? Trying to dodge responsibility for Jocelyn's allergic reaction?" he demanded.
My parents immediately joined in, disappointment and reproach written all over their faces.
Mom's voice was cold. "Joanna, how could you be so selfish? Jocelyn's still in the hospital, and all you can think about is leaving?"
Dad frowned and added, "You have no sense of responsibility."
I looked at them, a cold numbness spreading through my chest.
So that was it. No matter what I did, they always called it selfish.
"Dodging responsibility?" I curled my lips into a bitter smile. "When did I ever say I was?"
I picked up my phone, dialed Jocelyn's number right in front of them, and put it on speaker.
After a few rings, her voice came through—weak but still dripping with her usual arrogance.
"Joanna? Are you calling to chew me out?"
She thought I was picking a fight.
But as I looked around at my family, the whole thing struck me as painfully ironic.
"Jocelyn, whatever caused your allergic reaction, I'm sorry," I said, my voice calm and cold with finality. "I'm sorry. From today on, I'll stay out of your way."
Because I was leaving.
Silence lingered on the other end of the line. Jocelyn seemed stunned, unsure of how to respond. But I didn't need to hear any more.
I hung up, then looked at my parents and Joseph. "Can I go now?"
Their expressions were frozen in shock, as if it had never occurred to them that I might actually leave.
Without another word, I pulled my suitcase and walked, step by step, out of that cold, unforgiving house.
The click of the door closing behind me sounded like the shattering of my heart.
When I reached the airport, my phone rang again. The name flashing on the screen made my chest tighten.
I picked up the call, and Felix's voice came through, rushed and edged with barely suppressed agitation.
"Joanna, where are you going? We still don't know what's going on with Jocelyn. She's afraid to be alone at the hospital. I can't just leave her."
His tone was harsh, but beneath it was a tremor of urgency, like he was barely holding himself together.
I let out a bitter laugh. In his words, there was always concern for Jocelyn's needs, but never for me.
"Still pulling this disappearing act? Why can't you grow up?" he asked in a low voice. It wasn't exactly impatient but more weary than anything.
But to me, all his explanations and unspoken meanings had lost their weight.
I remembered my parents saying that Felix chose me for the family alliance, but the woman he truly loved had always been Jocelyn.
"Felix," I began, my voice steady and resolute, "let's break up."
The line went dead silent.
A moment later, he spoke, his voice tight as though my words had stung him. "What did you just say?"
I took a deep breath and repeated, "Let's break up."
With that, I hung up without hesitation and powered off my phone. Then, I turned, dragging my suitcase toward the boarding gate.
My flight was about to take off.
This time, I wasn't running from my past. I was finally free to start over.