Leaving the city never seemed to be an option for Owen Barlowe, but thinking back on it, why not? Moving out to the middle of nowhere never even crossed his mind, even though half of his summers as a child he would spend with his grandparents in Pelican Town; it wasn't as though he was thrilled for the visits back when he was a child, but those memories were all that he had left. The farm hadn't crossed his mind in years, though now he wished he would've slowed down once he entered the workforce back in the city and made more calls back to his grandparents. Getting the news that a grandparent had passed away unexpectedly always hit hard; Owen could remember it had felt like a knife had made its way into his chest and breaking all his ribs when his mother had called and told him the news that his grandfather had passed away. It was a devastating time for Owen and his family, a time when they should all be together to grieve properly; though, when it came time for the funeral, Joja wouldn't even look at his bereavement request. What else did he expect from a corporation? Everyone in his family was telling him to ditch work, but Owen's greatest strength, unfortunately, was also his personal life's greatest weakness, he was a reliable employee.

So, how did the thought of moving from the city to Pelican Town flourish? A week after the funeral, it was becoming harder and harder to keep focus at work, to the point where Owen had almost been caught multiple times sleeping at his desk due to being awake all night due to grief and regret. Checking the mail to see that something from his grandfather's estate was sent out to him was something that Owen didn't expect. He certainly didn't expect a handwritten letter from his late grandfather to be stored within the legal envelope.

Dear Owen,

If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

The same thing happened to me long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I've enclosed the deed to that place... my pride and joy: Barlowe Farm. It's located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It's the perfect place to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it's yours. I know you'll honour the family name, my boy.

Good luck.

Love, Grandpa

P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?

After first reading it, Owen was stunned, to say the least, and thought it had to have been a joke. Only when the deed to the farm followed the letter did he realize that he technically now owned a farm. A farm? He had no idea how to farm besides what his grandfather had shown him as a child, but that was all lost in memory now. Sighing, Owen only tucked the letter away, hoping to be able to hold onto the last thing his grandfather had addressed to him. He could not drop his life here to take care of a farm. Absolutely not. At least, that's what he had told himself.

Two months had passed, and things didn't seem to be getting any better for Owen. He still had a shitty corporate job and was still stuck in a shitty relationship he knew he could never get out of due to high living costs in the city. All the while, he was still feeling numb due to his loss. Every day seemed to blend together; sure, it always felt that way, but now it felt more evident that it was blended. Owen would get up at the same time every day, do the same morning routine, get dressed, argue with his girlfriend a bit, and drive almost an hour to get to work, only to sit behind a desk for nearly ten hours before going back home to nothing memorable. Just take it one day at a time; his mother would always tell him, and it would get better. Just when would that 'better' come?

"When are we going to go out?" Owen's girlfriend, Rebecca, asked as she leaned against the bathroom doorway as he was brushing his teeth to get ready for work.

Owen couldn't help but roll his eyes in the mirror before spitting out the toothpaste. He was sick of the same conversation. Not only was he exhausted mentally and socially after work, but he was also exhausted from having this upcoming argument. Not that he wouldn't mind wanting to go somewhere nice, but he had his own mental blocks besides his exhaustion.

"I dunno," he started, giving Rebecca some hope since Owen would typically always say no. "When are you going to start looking for a job?" He grumbled enough to where she could hear him.

Rebecca scowled at the question, knowing it would come up eventually today. Yeah, it must have been great being sent money every month from her wealthy family. Still, at the same time, Owen was sick of being the only one working to pay his half of the bills while she stayed home and did nothing. That was Rebecca's life; she stayed home, watched TV, spent countless hours on her phone, and then went out with friends. This is after she makes a complete mess of the apartment and then is gone for hours of the night, obviously expecting him to clean it up; otherwise, it'll sit for weeks. Maybe he was more irritable lately, or everything he told himself didn't bother him to keep the peace is now bubbling up.

"I told you I'm still looking!" She snapped, glaring at him through the mirror.

"You've been-…." Owen sighed, really not wanting to get into this right before work. Did he want to keep the peace once again? Or did he want to say everything that's been on his chest for the past year? He didn't even have to look in the mirror to see that same smug look she always gave him when they were about to argue, almost as if she got off on it. "Never mind."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, her smug look turning into a mocking pout as he said this.

"Aw… and I thought we were gonna argue again." Even though Owen was doing well at not reacting to her, Rebecca knew exactly how to get under his skin.

She smirked as she reached for his arm unexpectedly, grabbing his shirt sleeve to where it rode up to his upper arm. Owen's body tensed up, moving away from her as he had a scowl of his own, yet he could tell that she was holding back another sarcastic comment for now. Rebecca knew that she was about to get her wish of having another argument, only so she could turn around to her friends crying that she was the victim of his 'verbal abuse.' There were times when Owen suspected that she recorded him after riling him up to where they got into their screaming matches so her friends and other guys would think she was in a bad spot. Not only was it obnoxious, but it could paint him in a bad light. No matter how many times Owen's mother had told him that it may be best to break it off, he knew he couldn't do that; deep down, he did still love her, but it was mainly because he knew he couldn't afford to live on his own without her family's money paying her half.

"Don't!" He snapped, jerking his arm away. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?" She asked innocently, yet had that stupid smirk on her face. "I was just checking."

"Bullshit."

"What? I'm not allowed to make sure my boyfriend is doing okay? Hiding something?"

Owen huffed; she knew well enough that there wasn't anything to check, and there was no reason to suspect as such. Rebecca was known to throw his past mistakes back in his face whenever it could help manipulate the situation to her favour. It could be such a flip-flop sometimes that Owen couldn't bear it some days. There were times when she would hate his guts and do anything in her power to throw things back at him just to hurt him, while other times, she would become possessive and overly clingy. He understood the explanation as to why she acted out like this, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt him. Calling out the behaviour only caused her to pull the mental illness card.

"No… and that's not what you were doing, and you know it…." he mumbled, putting away his toothbrush. He knew that she was in one of her moods and that arguing with her would only escalate things. All he wanted to do was go to work and hope that she would be better by the time he got home.

"I was just-"

"I know what you were doing," he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he turned to leave the bathroom, only to be blocked by Rebecca. "Move."

Rebecca smiled a bit, standing on her toes, resting her hands on her chest as if she hadn't done something triggering to him. She unexpectedly kissed him on the cheek, which only caused his irritation to grow.

"You should be nicer to me," she said sweetly, "or else I can't keep funding this anymore."

Owen rolled his eyes, moving past her without saying anything else as she giggled, following behind him without a care in the world. Lovely. He knew the rest of his day was going to play off his morning; that's just what he needed. No matter how many times he kept mentally telling himself that the argument wouldn't be worth it, he knew that Rebecca didn't see it that way and would get what she wanted out of him.

"Owen? Owen? Babe?"

"Oh my god…." He mumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"God."

"Because I feel like you're mad at me."

"Take your meds and leave me alone."

Rebecca tilted her head at his words.

"That's not nice. You're being mean today," she responded with another mocking pout.

At this point, Owen couldn't tell if she was having another episode or if she was just being manipulative so she could continue to abuse him. Sadly, it was a common trend he noticed that Rebecca liked to pull. Although sometimes that wasn't the case, and she truly was having an episode, so Owen always had to tiptoe around the situation until he was 100% on what he was dealing with. This time, though, he felt confident that she was only trying to manipulate him. While he acted like he didn't care, it hurt. It killed him. Seeing someone he once loved and would die for turn on him in an instant with no reason besides wanting to start a fight. Watching someone, he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with mental health deteriorating right in front of him, and he couldn't do a thing about it because it always felt like an attack.

Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he should leave her.

The thought was always there, always was technically an option, but even though Rebecca made it a point that she didn't need him to be well off, while true, she didn't want that. Every fight they had that Owen said that he tried to break up caused her to cry, hyperventilate, act like something was wrong or she was hurt, then threaten to kill herself. It was hard. Be stuck in a relationship that he wasn't happy in, or having blood on his hands.

"Look," Owen started, forcing himself out of his own jumbled thoughts, looking at Rebecca, who looked like she wanted to keep pushing his limits. "I need to go to work, okay? We can talk later."

"I wanna talk now."

"We can't. We can-"

"I said I wanted to go out tonight!"

That's right. That was what started this whole thing.

"I said I dunno! I'm tired, okay? Works stressful."

"How? You sit in a box all day."

"Maybe if you got a job, you'd understand it's not that easy."

Rebecca frowned.

"You're not being fair!"

"Just… look… if you send out three applications today, we'll go out, okay?"

Owen hated treating her and talking to her like a child. She was almost thirty; she should have a job and understand how the real world operates.

Rebecca frowned, folding her arms over her chest.

"I'll do it tomorrow if we go out tonight."

Owen sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. She was stubborn.

"Why do we need to go out so badly?"

"Because!" She snapped, "I told my friends we'd meet them at that new restaurant in town!"

It took a moment for Owen to process what she was saying before shaking his head.

"The place that's like, fifty bucks a meal? I can't afford that."

"You owe me!"

Owen sighed deeply, unable to keep himself as calm as he knew he should be. This was exactly what Rebecca wanted, and he was about to give it to her.

"Yeah, no shit, I owe you!" Owen yelled. "You tell me that every single day!"

"So we're going!"

"Fine!" He snatched his backup up from the floor by the front door of their apartment. "Whatever makes you stop acting like a bitch!"

Owen didn't wait for her to respond, knowing that she was happy with herself and would want to start picking deeper under his skin. He absolutely hated himself for calling her a bitch; it destroyed him to do so because he knew how much it would hurt her feelings. Yet, at the same time, he knew she got off on pushing him to his limit.

No matter how hard he tried, Owen couldn't stop replaying their little fight in his head as he drove to work. Was it worth what he said? Should he have just left without saying anything? Hopefully, Rebecca wouldn't do anything drastic, but figuring this was all a game to her, she wouldn't do anything. Letting out another sigh as he relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, he figured he would have a long day.

Well, at least getting to work and settling into his desk was still lined up with his routine. Owen was in a rut; adding the stress he had at home and in his relationship, his grandfather passing away, and all the work that was piling up on his desk, he could confidently say that he was in a rough patch. His mother always told him that was normal in life, but how long would this one last? How long until he felt rested enough to do something outside of work rather than going home to sleep. Owen did feel bad that his relationship with Rebecca was going so south; was it his fault? Maybe things would have been different if he wasn't working all the time. Maybe this was his fault. All his suffering and the fact he was unable to work through his grief was his fault.

Owen was tired. He didn't want to say exhausted as he didn't feel like he was allowed to tell him that's how he felt. Drained, his social battery was low, which was odd for him since he was naturally an extrovert. Yet nobody noticed that he was acting out of character. Maybe Rebecca was right, and nobody cared about him.

Two hours into work, Owen couldn't help but put his head down on his desk. He needed to rest just for a moment. What would be even better is if he could shut his brain down so he couldn't think. Or better yet, maybe if he could stop existing for a day or two, it would be the vacation that he needed.

Or maybe he was in dire need of a change…

Opening his desk drawer, the legal envelope holding the deed to his grandfather's farm was still neatly sitting there. There was no way he was keeping it at home where Rebecca could get her hands on it; Owen didn't even tell her about it. How could he? She would take it, no doubt. There were a handful of different possibilities of what she would do with it: burn it, take it as her own, or hide it from him.

Owen leaned back in his chair, opening the letter again to read over his grandfather's letter.

I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

He sighed; it was almost as if his grandfather knew exactly what he was going through. Bouncing his leg, Owen pulled out the official deed to his farm.

Seriously? Was he actually considering this? To move out from the city and to the middle of nowhere…. Starting a new life and meeting new people…. Could he do that? If it weren't for Rebecca, he would be broke with only five hundred dollars to his name.

Owen had to ask himself if he knew anything about farming besides what his grandfather had taught him. Would he be able to make a living out there managing a farm with such limited knowledge? In life, Owen was always cautious about making sure he had his ducks in a row before taking any steps.

Fuck it.

Life is better without Joja.

Standing up, Owen tossed his badge on his desk, grabbing his backpack before leaving the office. This isn't what he wanted to do with his life. He wasn't meant to be locked in a box staring at a computer screen all day when there was so much more out there for him to explore. The people in the city sucked; being out in a town would definitely be a breath of fresh air compared to this place. Was he really going to go through with this?

He had the entire drive home to think about what he was doing. Owen had to figure that he walked out of his job, leaving his badge behind, and Joja didn't take too lightly to something like that. So yeah, he was basically out of a job in the city right now, and he didn't want to go anywhere else. Not once could he think of anything positive that could keep him from leaving this place?

Entering the apartment, Owen didn't say anything to Rebecca, who was unsurprisingly lying across the couch with the TV on while messing with her laptop. She jumped at the sudden opening and slamming of the front door, sitting up quickly.

"What're you doing home already?" she asked, moving the laptop to the side. He never came home early; he always stayed over. When he didn't answer as he entered the bedroom, she huffed and followed him. "What are you doing?"

Owen didn't say a word, yet he was silently fuming at everything going on in his life. Today, he vowed that once he was on that bus to Stardew Valley, he would never think about this place again—not his job, not his friends, not Rebecca, nothing. He was angrily shoving all his clothes into a duffle bag. The only things that he was going to be bringing with him were his clothes and whatever else he could fit into it.

"Hey!" Rebecca snapped, grabbing his arm to get his attention, but he didn't respond to her aggressive touch. "Where are you going?!"

Finally, he snatched his arm away, putting the last of what he wanted to take into the duffle bag before zipping it closed. Owen didn't owe her a response and certainly didn't owe her what he was doing. All Rebecca needed to understand was that he was no longer going to be around in her life, and he was going to be much happier for it.

Owen had the duffle bag hanging from his shoulder as he turned around, but he was unable to walk away as Rebecca pressed herself against his chest with her hands, beginning to massage his shoulders. This was another method that she used to butter him up to keep him from leaving. She'd done it a couple of times before, and each time, it worked in her favour, so of course, she thought it was going to work again.

"Baby…." She started in that innocent tone, looking into his hazel eyes. She brought her hands up to his face, gently tracing his features. "Where are you going?"

Owen looked down at her, not wanting to say anything, as she continued her attempt at manipulating him. This time, he wasn't going to allow it to work. He'd made up his mind; he had to go through with this in order to keep his sanity. Rebecca frowned, seeing that he wasn't giving in to her. Finally, she scowled.

"What's your problem?!"

"I'm leaving," he said, trying to sound as emotionless as he could, but that wasn't in his nature. It didn't help that he felt terrible for doing this; deep down, he still loved Rebecca as much as he did when they first met.

"Yeah, no shit. I can see that you're trying to leave. Where are you going?" She demanded, her nails slightly digging into his chest.

"Don't worry about it." He had tried moving around her, but she wouldn't allow it. "Rebecca. Move."

"No." She grabbed his shoulders and looked into his eyes; the innocent look was gone, and there was a tint of darkness behind her eyes. "You're not leaving," she said.

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you're not!" she shouted. You have nowhere to go!" Owen huffed, leading her to believe that she was starting to get to him. "And you can't get anything without me," she reminded him with a smirk.

Owen knew that very well. It was the one thing that kept dawning on him during his drive home. Unless he somehow got lucky in his new home, he wouldn't be able to make it without Rebecca, and that was the most frustrating part. He always complained that she couldn't get a job and be on her own when he couldn't go on without her help. The comforting thoughts he kept repeating to himself were that he would start a new life, no matter how difficult it would be.