Then finally, a message arrived: Unless you admit your mistake and apologize to Candice, there’s nothing more to talk about.
I stared at the words for a long moment. A bitter smile curved my lips. Even now, after all that had transpired, he still pinned the blame solely on me. He hadn’t once asked for my explanation, never gave me the chance to defend myself. Seven years, and it all amounted to nothing in his eyes.
If that’s where we stood, then there was truly nothing left to say.
At dawn, I zipped up my suitcase and walked out of the house that had once symbolized our shared dreams. Surprisingly, as I closed the door behind me, I felt a calm wash over me. Not sadness, not regret—just a quiet, steady sense of peace.
