Page 3 of Seal the Deal

I glance at the kids, still fast asleep. Meadow’s face is smushed against her unicorn pillow, and Noah is sprawled out, mouth slightly open. Their peacefulness makes me smile—so blissfully unaware of the weight of this moment. I envy that innocence, but mostly feel lucky they can rest.

We’re really doing this. We’re really here.

As the plane starts its descent, I can see unfamiliar terrain appearing out the window. A pang of anxiety creeps in, questioning if I’ve made the right choice. Uprooting the kids, moving to a country where we know practically no one, leaving behind the safety net of family and friends. It’s terrifying.

But staying would have been terrifying, too. Staying meant living with constant reminders of a life I’d already left behind, of a marriage that had slowly eroded my confidence.

I think back to that final conversation with my ex-husband, Alex. The way his smirk barely masked his contempt.He’d scoffed, looking at me like I was a child with a fleeting whim. “Go ahead, Lottie. If you think you can make it work, fine. But when you can’t…” He paused, letting the words linger, his tone dripping with disdain. “You bring the kids back, and we reassess.”

Reassess.As if our lives were just another asset to measure and manage. He’d always made me feel inadequate, like I’d crumble without him.He never believed I could do this on my own. Never thought I was capable of making a life without him.

And that’s exactly why I had to leave. To prove to myself that I can. That I don’t need his approval or permission to build a life worth living.

But the doubts linger, gnawing at my resolve. Doubts I know were cultivated by years of Alex’s voice, the way he’d chip away at my confidence, convincing me I was barely capable of standing on my own.

What if he’s right? What if I fail? What if I can’t give Noah and Meadow the life they deserve here?

I close my eyes and try to dispel the what-ifs. It’s too late for second-guessing. We’re in this, and I have to make it work. For all of us.

As the plane begins its final approach, my thoughts drift to the job that brought us here. It still feels surreal, being headhunted by one of the most prestigious marketing agencies in Denver:Pulse Creative.

I wasn’t looking for a new job. I wasn’t looking for anything, really. I was just trying to survive, to keep my head above water in the wake of my crumbling marriage. And then this opportunity landed in my lap. It felt like the universe was nudging me forward to a new life, where I could finally leave behind the disappointment and doubt, and build something meaningful.

I’m damn good at what I do. Marketing feels like second nature—the creativity, the strategy, the thrill of piecing together a campaign that just clicks. But sometimes I wonder if it’s all a bit hollow, to create desire from thin air and fuel endless consumerism.

Still, there are days when it feels powerful, like I’m creating something that matters, something that can make peoplefeel. Those are the days I live for: flexing my creative muscles, working with amazing teams, sitting in rooms where big decisions are made. Being part of something bigger. That’s what keeps me going.

Pulse Creativeisn’t an entirely new world, either. It’s the sister company to the agency I worked for in New Zealand. I met Zoe, who is based here in Denver, through our joint projects and business trips between the two agencies.

Our professional relationship quickly became a friendship, and when she found out about my situation, she pushed for me to come here. She vouched for me, sang my praises to the higher-ups, made the transition seamless. Zoe’s been in my corner through it all.

The plane touches down with a slight jolt, pulling me out of my thoughts. Meadow stirs, blinking awake and rubbing her eyes, while Noah yawns and stretches in his seat.

“Are we here, Mama?” Meadow mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

“We’re here, honey bee.” I smooth her hair and kiss the top of her head. “Welcome to Denver.”

As we make our way off the plane, the reality of our new life sinks in. The airport is a bustling hive of activity, a sharp contrast to the quieter life we left behind.

Meadow clings to me with her small arms wrapped tightly around my neck, while Noah holds my hand, his eyes wide with wonder. “Wow, it’s huge here!” he exclaims. “Where’s the snow?”

“Soon, buddy,” I chuckle. “We’ll see plenty of snow soon.”

After a grueling stretch through immigration and security with two tired kids in tow, we finally reach the arrivals hall, where I quickly spot a familiar figure waving animatedly from across the room.

Zoe.

It’s one thing to have a friendly face greet you in a new city; it’s another when that person has been your biggest cheerleader through thick and thin.

My heart lifts at the sight of her, the first real wave of relief I’ve felt since we left New Zealand. She’s holding up a sign that reads, ‘WELCOME TO DENVER, KIWI & KIDDOS!’ complete with doodles of planes and mountains. It’s so effortlessly Zoe.

“There she is!” Zoe’s grin stretches wide as she rushes over, bouncing with excitement.

She’s tall, with silky dark hair cascading down her back and a natural tan that is testament to both her Arapaho heritage and love for the outdoors. Athletic and effortlessly beautiful, Zoe’s the type who could hike a mountain one day and run a marathon the next without breaking a sweat. She’s stunning. Even in the chaos of the airport, she turns heads.

Emotion rushes through me as she pulls me into a quick hug, careful not to squish Meadow, who’s still wrapped around me like a koala.

“God, they’re even cuter in person!” Zoe coos, running a perfectly manicured hand through Meadow’s strawberry-blonde hair. “And who might you be, little miss?

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