She Walked Up To Me On The Beach After Three Years Of No Contact… And I Knew Why She Was There.

“How long until immigration notices?” I asked. “I give it two weeks, maybe three.

Once the divorce is finalized, her visa status gets reviewed. If she can’t prove independent means or find another path to legal residency, she’s looking at deportation.”

I thought about Samantha packing her bags, flying back to Toronto, rebuilding from scratch. I should have felt satisfaction.

Instead, I just felt tired. “What about Oliver?” I asked. Drew paused.

“What about him?”

“He didn’t ask for any of this. His mom blew up his life, too.”

“Jason,” Drew said carefully, “you can’t save that kid. He’s not your responsibility anymore.”

“I know,” I said, but the words felt like glass in my throat.

Day eight: Samantha’s video view counts started dropping. The algorithm moved on. Her follower count dipped.

A wellness brand she’d been partnering with quietly pulled her affiliate link. Day ten: She posted a tearful video. No makeup this time.

Hair pulled back, sitting in the guest bedroom. “I’m learning that honesty comes with consequences I didn’t anticipate,” she said, her voice shaking. “I thought I was being brave, but maybe I was just being selfish.

I don’t know anymore.”

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