Colin had taken her on a private jet to chase the northern lights.
In the green haze of the aurora, their silhouettes stood close together. Matching rings glinted on their fingers, tightly intertwined.
The caption pierced like glass:
[He told me I’m the only one for him. He promised to protect me from all the cruelty in this world. How could I ever let go of a man like that?]
Below it, a cutesy account with cartoon couple avatars commented:
[And no matter how far you try to run from me, I’ll find you. I’ll tie you to my side forever. So don’t even try, silly girl.]
I didn’t need to check. I knew that tone. That possessive flair. That was Colin.
I could tell from the typing style alone.
I remembered the day I asked him to use matching couple avatars with me.
He rolled his eyes and snapped, “What are you, twelve? Can’t you see I’m busy? Now leave!”
And yet I had once dreamed of stargazing with him in the Alps.
I had planned the itinerary down to the smallest detail—he said he was too busy.
Every time, that was the excuse: too busy.
Now I finally understood. He could be romantic. He just never chose to be with me.
I set the phone down, trying to blink back the sting behind my eyes.