Rolling over, I grab the bottle of water from my nightstand and chug the rest of it down. Waking up before sunrise has become my ritual but not by choice. I toss it into the garbage in the bathroom and then walk into the living room of the apartment. I open the windows and the door to the balcony and let the breeze blow through. I still have an ounce of hope left that one day my soul will be cleansed and the good I do now will carry me home.

Home.

Lark.

They’re not one and the same anymore, but my heart still tricks me into believing it some days. I make an espresso and then take a shower. I like the modern amenities tucked inside the ancient exterior of this apartment. At first, it appears worn down with cracks covering the surface and scars from the lack of attention. But at second glance, the beauty is still there. It’s just buried under the years of the life around it. I relate.

I’m like a goddamn philosopher these days. It’d be nice to get out of my head for a while. I dry off and get dressed for a day at the office. Giving up Lucas’s dream allowed me to finally focus on mine.

I had to come to the source to follow my dreams. That meant taking a chance and moving to Italy, the home of Maserati, Ferrari, and Lamborghini. If I want to compete with the big boys, I had to take a leap and invest time and money for this opportunity.

A bonus is that being in the city of Modena has given me an opportunity to slow down and pursue what I enjoy doing. I’ve learned everything I can about manufacturing Maserati vehicles, made connections, and was even offered a promotion and salary to stay that was hard to turn down. But I didn’t come to Italy to stay forever. I came to get away. I came to learn. I came to find myself.

I know now.

I know who I am.

I know what I want.

And then I even spent time down in Maranello to learn about Ferrari, deciding my passion lies in the manufacturing and the design of these sexy cars. Not sure how a kid from Beacon Pointe weaseled his way into this industry, but it’s started to heal me in ways I never expected. It hasn’t fixed the knot, but I’m going to work on that as well.

I walk into the conference room, where I’ve earned a seat at the table, and share my vision. I’m low level in the company, but high enough to be taken seriously. The plan is laid out, and then I lay down my resignation.

As soon as I’m outside, I pull my phone from my pocket and call my mom. “I’m ready to come back.”

She tries to temper her tone, but I hear the wave of excitement threaded through it. “We’re ready to see you, honey.”