‘It’s Just A Meeting, My Son Said When I Didn’t Receive An Invitation To His Big Engagement Party. So I Transferred Back The $25k From The Honeymoon Fund And Updated The Flights I Had Arranged For Them.

“Would you like me to take a photo, ma’am?” he offered, noticing me admiring the view. “Yes,” I decided, handing him my phone. “That would be lovely.”

I smiled into the camera, champagne flute raised slightly, mountains gleaming behind me.

Not the practiced smile of the professional event planner. Or the supportive smile of the devoted mother. Just Diana Wellington taking her first sip of a life reclaimed.

After the server returned my phone, I studied the image. I looked different. Lighter, somehow.

I posted it to Instagram with a simple caption:

New beginnings. Lark’s Aspen getaway. Treating myself.

Then I silenced my phone, slipped it into my purse, and turned my attention to the sunset painting the mountains in shades of gold and pink. Tomorrow would bring consequences. Explanations.

Perhaps confrontations. But tonight belonged to me alone. Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the unfamiliar sensation of mountain sunlight streaming through windows I hadn’t personally dressed with blackout curtains.

For a disorienting moment, I couldn’t place myself. Then reality resettled. Aspen.

The Little Nell. My impulsive escape. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, switching it off airplane mode.

Immediately, it erupted in a frenzy of notifications. Sixty-eight missed calls. Forty-two text messages.

A flurry of Instagram activity. The majority of the calls were from James. Thirty-seven of them.

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