He Abandoned Me On Snowy Mountain Chapter 10

He Abandoned Me On Snowy Mountain Chapter 10

Autumn arrived early in New York City.

By the time the fallen leaves lined the streets, the acquisition I spearheaded had officially drawn to a close.

Sterling Holdings had successfully secured its place as the industry titan.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s family enterprise, bled dry by severed capital chains and his own utter neglect, finally

filed for bankruptcy liquidation.

Brooks tossed a newspaper onto my desk, the headline reading: Yesterday’s Corporate Prodigy, Today’s Bankrupt Debtor.

“Hear he didn’t even show up for the liquidation hearings,” Brooks said, pulling up a chair.

“He’s holed up in your old suburban estate, drinking himself to death.”

“Ended up back in the hospital a few days ago for alcohol poisoning.”

I flipped through the quarterly reports in front of me, never once raising my eyes.

“I assume that estate has been foreclosed on as well?”

“Yeah, the court enforces it next week.” Brooks paused. “Oh, and Amber got handed three years for the assault. Ethan didn’t even bother hiring a lawyer for her.”

I penned my signature and closed the folder.

“They got exactly what they deserved. Nothing more to say.”

With everything settled, my flight back to Germany was scheduled for Friday afternoon.

Brooks drove me to JFK Airport.

“Think you’ll ever come back after this?” he asked, glancing over as we hit a red light.

Looking out at the city skyline tearing past the window, I smiled.

“We’ll see. Corporate wants me to take over the European division next, so I’ll be buried in work for the next few years.”

“Good,” Brooks nodded, a flash of genuine pride in his eyes.

“That’s the real Hazel. The world is yours now. Go take it.”

We reached the airport, and I wheeled my suitcase toward the security checkpoint.

Just then, a sudden commotion broke out a short distance away.

A disheveled, heavily bearded man was frantically trying to break past the security line, only to be shoved

back by airport TSA agents.

He clutched a crumpled plane ticket in his hand, his eyes scanning the crowd like a madman.

It was Ethan.

God knows how he had tracked down my flight details, but he had dragged himself all the way here.

“Hazel! Hazel, don’t leave!”

His hoarse voice cut through the terminal, carrying a raw, desperate sob.

The surrounding travelers all stopped to stare.

I halted my steps, looking at him from across the distance. I surprised myself by recognizing him instantly after three years-unfortunate that I even had the bandwidth to remember him.

Three years ago, at that high-altitude mountain pass, I had watched his car drive away in the exact same

manner.

Back then, he was certain I couldn’t live without him, certain I would always wait exactly where he left me.

Now, he stood there, begging like a dog just for me to look back.

Karma had finally come full circle; every ounce of pain he had inflicted was being returned to him in full.

I didn’t walk over. I simply and calmly averted my gaze.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

An unknown number had sent a text.

Hazel, it’s snowing today. Remember to bundle up. Take my jacket, don’t freeze.

Looking at the words on the screen, I only felt a deep sense of absurdity.

It was a perfectly clear, sun-drenched day in New York.

His mind seemed forever trapped in that blizzard back in the Rockies.

The snow was only falling in his own isolated world.

Without replying, I deleted the text.

I pulled the local SIM card out of my phone and dropped it straight into a nearby trash can.

The green light at the security gate blinked open.

I placed my luggage onto the conveyor belt and walked through the scanner without turning around.

The chaos behind me was instantly swallowed by the thick glass doors.

Outside the boarding gate, a jet was fueled and waiting for takeoff.

I took a deep, clear breath.

The blizzard that had kept me trapped for five years had finally, completely stopped today.

Some people belong exclusively in the rearview mirror-growing smaller, blurrier, until they vanish entirely

from sight.

And I was finally stepping forward to embrace my own spring.