I Saw the Name in My Fiance’s Heart So I Walked Away Chapter 05
The note held one line: [Derek, I’m not coming back.]
Riley read it over his shoulder and went white. “She really left?”
Derek didn’t answer. He pulled out his phone and sent a message: [Maya, don’t do this. Where are you?]
Not Delivered. The words sat there in gray. His breath stopped.
Riley fumbled for her phone, panic flickering across her face. “She blocked me, too. What do we do now?”
She stood there a second, thinking, then grabbed her bag. “I know people who work at the station and the airport. I’ll ask around. Somebody will know where she went.”
The door shut behind her, and the silence rushed back in.
Derek stood frozen by the table, staring at those two words. Not Delivered. For a long moment, his fingers wouldn’t move. Then he slowly scrolled up.
The last message was from the night I was admitted to the hospital. He was at the grocery store, and I’d texted: [Remember, no shrimp. I’m allergic.]
He’d written back: [Of course. How could I forget your allergy?]
And he forgot it anyway.
He kept scrolling. Almost every message above it was
from me. Food. Clothes. Even a stray cat I’d spotted on the street.
He always replied.
[Looks good.]
[Pretty.]
[Poor thing.]
A response to every line. But every response was hollow.
Something thick and tight lodged in his throat. His hand trembled as he opened another chat window.
That same night, he’d sent Riley message after message.
[Heard this ramen spot is amazing. Wanna go after work?]
[Saw a dress that looked great on Maya. Found a similar one that would suit you perfectly.]
[Maya was telling me about this stray cat today. Wanna go find it together?]
Nearly everything I’d shared with him, he’d turned
around and shared with Riley.
Something heavy and awful churned in his chest. He’d done so many things he never should’ve done.
He stood there gripping his phone, the empty room pressing in around him. Finally, the screen dimmed, and he lifted his head.
The bedroom door was half open, dark inside. He walked in, eyes scanning. My water glass, my charging cable, the little cat–shaped nightlight–all gone.
He dropped onto the bed and rolled over restlessly.
Even now, he couldn’t make himself believe I’d really leave. Seven years. I was used to him taking care of me. Used to him being tender. Maybe if he just apologized the right way, if he drew a clear line with Riley, I’d still leave a door open for him.
That’s when the corner of his eye caught a faint glow. He shifted and felt it–the old Ipad.
The screen was still lit, frozen on a photo–memory notification. He swiped it open, and the blood drained from his face.
Photos of him and Riley at Crescent Dunes.
It hit him, late and sharp: his cloud album had been synced to this tablet the whole time.I had seen every single one of these pictures before I ever showed up at the hospital.
That was why I’d been so calm. I’d already walked through every lie before I ever dragged my suitcase into that room.
I never brought it up. I just clapped after he kissed her cheek and said, “Congrats.”
A sharp pain tore through his chest. He slammed a fist into the mattress–and his fingers hit something cool.
He angled the tablet’s light toward it and saw the ring. The engagement ring he’d spent two months. searching for.
The day he proposed, I sat on the couch, held my hand out with red–rimmed eyes, and forced a smile. “Derek, once it’s on, no take–backs.”
He slid the ring onto my finger. “Maya. No take–backs. I’m gonna be good to you. Always.”
He didn’t keep that promise.
He clenched the cold ring until his knuckles ached. The regret rose so fast he couldn’t shove it down anymore. He doubled over and let out a ragged, broken sob.