Chapter 3: A New Beginning
Belinda didn’t have a plan. Not yet, anyway. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay in Owathe—not in the same city where every corner reminded her of Lucas, of their failed marriage, and of the life she had left behind. She needed space, time to breathe, and a chance to figure out who she was without him.
She booked a train ticket to a small coastal town she had visited once as a child. It was a quiet place, far from the hustle and bustle of the city, where the sound of the waves crashing against the shore could drown out the noise in her head. As the train pulled away from the station, Belinda felt a strange mix of emotions—sadness, relief, and a flicker of excitement for what lay ahead.
The journey took several hours, but Belinda didn’t mind. She spent the time staring out the window, watching the landscape change from urban sprawl to rolling hills and finally to the sparkling blue of the ocean. By the time she arrived, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the town.
She checked into a small, cozy inn near the beach. The owner, a kind older woman named Martha, greeted her with a warm smile. “You look like you’ve had a long day, dear,” Martha said, handing her a key. “Room 3 is all yours. Let me know if you need anything.”
Belinda thanked her and made her way to her room. It was simple but comfortable, with a large window that overlooked the ocean. She dropped her bag on the bed and sat down, taking a deep breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of peace.
The next few days passed in a blur. Belinda spent her mornings walking along the beach, letting the cool sand squish between her toes and the salty breeze tangle her hair. She ate at small, local cafes, trying dishes she had never heard of before. She even struck up a conversation with a fisherman who taught her how to spot the best shells along the shore.
But as the days went on, Belinda began to feel restless. She had run away from her old life, but she couldn’t run from herself forever. She needed to figure out what she wanted—not just for the next few weeks, but for the rest of her life.
One evening, as she sat on the beach watching the sunset, Martha joined her. “Mind if I sit?” she asked, holding two mugs of hot tea.
Belinda shook her head and accepted the mug Martha handed her. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping their tea and watching the waves.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind, don’t you?” Martha said finally, her voice gentle.
Belinda sighed. “Is it that obvious?”
Martha chuckled. “I’ve been running this inn for over 30 years. I’ve seen my share of people running away from something. But you don’t strike me as the type to run forever. What are you looking for, dear?”
Belinda hesitated, then decided to be honest. “I don’t know. I just… I need to figure out who I am without him.”
Martha nodded thoughtfully. “Sometimes, the hardest part isn’t leaving. It’s figuring out what comes next. But you’re stronger than you think. You’ve already taken the first step.”
Belinda smiled faintly. “I hope so.”
The next morning, Belinda woke up with a newfound determination. She decided to stay in the town for a while, to give herself time to heal and to explore what she truly wanted. She started by volunteering at a local community center, helping to organize events and teach art classes to children. It was something she had always loved but had never had the time for in her old life.
As the weeks passed, Belinda began to feel like herself again—not the version of herself that Lucas or anyone else had expected her to be, but the person she had always been deep down. She laughed more, smiled more, and even started to make friends in the town.
One day, as she was painting with a group of kids at the community center, one of them looked up at her and said, “Miss Belinda, you’re really good at this. Are you an artist?”
Belinda paused, surprised by the question. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But maybe I could be.”
That night, she sat by the window in her room, sketching in a notebook she had bought at a local shop. For the first time in years, she felt a spark of creativity, a sense of purpose that had been missing for so long.
Belinda didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time, she was okay with that. She was no longer defined by her past or by the people who had hurt her. She was finally free to create her own story—one step at a time.