Chapter 4 - A SMALL TOWN CALLED BRIAR GLEN
Lena drove for hours before reaching Briar Glen, a quiet town in Wisconsin.
It had a main street lined with brick storefronts.
A bakery.
A library.
A small hospital.
And a bed-and-breakfast overlooking a lake.
She rented a room for two weeks.
Then found a small furnished cottage.
White siding.
Blue shutters.
A porch swing.
Nothing luxurious.
Nothing guarded.
Nothing belonging to Dante.
She loved it immediately.
The owner, Margaret Ellis, was a widow in her sixties.
She looked at Lena kindly.
“Moving here permanently?”
Lena hesitated.
“I'm not sure.”
Margaret smiled.
“That's all right.”
She handed her the keys.
“Sometimes people need a place to figure things out.”
Lena began volunteering at a local community art center.
She had studied art history before marrying Dante.
She'd once dreamed of opening her own gallery.
But marriage had gradually swallowed those plans.
One afternoon, Margaret found her arranging paintings.
“You have a good eye.”
Lena smiled.
“Thank you.”
Margaret studied her.
“Have you ever considered running a gallery?”
Lena laughed softly.
“A long time ago.”
Margaret nodded toward the empty storefront across the street.
“That's available.”
Lena stared.
For the first time since leaving Chicago, she imagined a future that didn't begin with Dante's name.
A gallery.
A baby.
A quiet life.
That evening, she attended her first prenatal appointment.
The doctor confirmed the pregnancy was progressing normally.
Lena stared at the ultrasound screen.
A tiny heartbeat flickered.
She began crying.
The doctor smiled.
“Everything looks good so far.”
Lena nodded.
Then whispered:
“Hello, little one.”
That night, she sat on the porch.
One hand resting against her stomach.
She thought about Dante.
The way he'd once kissed her forehead every morning.
The way he'd held her during thunderstorms.
The way he'd promised to build a family with her.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
She still loved him.
That was the worst part.
But she knew love wasn't enough.
Not without trust.
Not without respect.
Not without honesty.
She looked toward the dark lake.
Then whispered:
“We're going to be okay.”
May you like
She wasn't entirely sure.
But she wanted to believe it.
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