Chapter 5 - The New Reality in Cincinnati
In Cincinnati, life took on a crisp, exhilarating rhythm.
Our new apartment on the third floor of a converted historic brick building had high ceilings, large arched windows that let in floods of morning light, and hardwood floors that clicked under Sophie’s tap-dancing shoes.
My first week at Apex Creative was a revelation. My boss, Marcus Vance—no relation to Sarah, just another talented creative director—welcomed me with a genuine smile and handed me a desk overlooking the bustling Fountain Square.
“We love your portfolio, Emily,” Marcus said during my orientation. “Your layout design has an instinct for whitespace that most senior designers lose after ten years in the grind.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a warmth in my chest I hadn't felt in years. “It feels good to be back.”
Sophie settled into her new school with surprising ease. Her third-grade teacher, Mrs. Gable, was kind and attentive, and the school nurse was already briefed on her mild asthma protocol. Best of all, the air quality in our new neighborhood, combined with the absence of the chronic stress of walking on eggshells around Ryan and Patricia, seemed to work wonders on her lungs. She hadn't used her rescue inhaler once in two weeks.
On Friday evening, after picking up groceries from Findlay Market, Sophie and I sat on our plush velvet sofa eating homemade pizza and watching an astronomy documentary.
“Mom?” Sophie asked, looking up from her plate with cheese at the corner of her mouth. “Are we ever going back to Columbus?”
I paused, holding a slice of pizza. I looked around our cozy living room, illuminated by the warm glow of floor lamps and the sparkling lights of the city outside.
“No, sweetie,” I said softly. “This is our home now. Do you miss it there?”
Sophie shook her head thoughtfully. “Not really. Daddy was always away, and Grandma Patricia was always angry. Here, it’s quiet. And you smile more.”
May you like
Her words hit me like a physical blow—a sweet, piercing reminder of how much of our unhappiness she had absorbed while I was busy trying to keep the peace.
“I’m going to smile a lot more from now on,” I promised, pulling her close into a hug that smelled of laundry detergent and strawberry shampoo.
