It felt good turning down Brooklyn Lines. Even if they were the highest bidder.

“Maybe next time, guys…”

I packed a medium sized roller suitcase with summer clothes, my sketchbook, and passport. All other necessary items would be provided, including comfortable shoes, toiletries and I added the skincare package to my reservation.

This getaway certainly wasn’t cheap but the check I got for that first sketch of August, or rather as the media believed, ‘Troy Hartman’, covered it plenty.

I didn’t need anything else.

I didn’t need anyone else.

“Hopefully we won’t hit traffic, I need to get there and back for my second job. Not all of us have a side hustle that pays for a couple weeks retreat in the island of the Bahamas.”

“You’ll have plenty of time. And it’s only eight days. If I don’t die from no red meat for a week, I’ll stay longer.” I shrugged. “I’ve pre-paid my rent and all my bills for the next month, so I can go stress-free.”

“And it’s all women at this thing?” Nic asked.

“Mostly women.”

“Not my cup of tea.”

“Oh, we’ll be having a lot of herbal tea, and grains and pomegranates.”

“So you’ll be even thinner than you are now, fabulous. When is the drawing being published?”

“Monday. Keep a look out for it and text me a copy. I won’t have my phone all day, only checking it at night, it’s part of the experience.”

“Beautiful.” She rolled her eyes.

On the way to the airport, something was tugging at me and I couldn’t place it. My chest ached.

“Wait. Can you get off the next exit?”

She glanced at her watch. “Um, okay.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave without seeing him, clear the air.”

She sighed but got me there anyway.

Nicole dropped me off and I took my suitcase with me since she didn’t have time to wait.

“You sure you’ll be okay to get to LaGuardia on time?

“Yes. I’ll call an Uber.” I rolled my eyes, I couldn’t imagine this taking long, but it would make me feel better if he knew I didn’t hate him. I wasn’t going to start my new journey with regrets—at least not the ones I could help.

She released a breath. “Good luck.”

I winked to reassure her before she drove off.

Finally upstairs after clearing building security, I knocked on his door.

“Hey gorgeous,” he smiled brightly from his hospital bed.

“Too late for flattery, Hartman.” I smiled back and parked my suitcase by the visitor chair.

“How are you feeling?” I looked at Troy’s mostly bandaged body laying slightly upright. He had one working arm that moved to flip off the television. “Looks like it hurts.”

“My pride more than anything else. I suppose you know I’m stepping down.”