The Terence she saw now was someone entirely different—a man who showed his care openly, without reservation. But it was the care that was never meant for her.
Third Person's POV
Terence always seemed so composed.
Halle once thought it was because his job had trained him to handle anything with unshakable calm. But now, she realized it wasn’t composure—it was indifference.
After all, when you truly love someone, how can you remain so unbothered?
Lowering her gaze, she couldn’t bear to watch the sweetness unfolding inside the room any longer.
Quietly, Halle placed the small gift box on the wooden table by the door.
Inside were two things: the Maasai beaded ornament she had strung as a blessing for him and a goodbye note tucked beneath it. The note carried only a single sentence: [Terence, I’m leaving. I wish you happiness, and I hope we never meet again.]
Originally, she had planned to give it to him the day she left. But now, today felt like their true farewell as Terence was on a mission that afternoon and likely wouldn’t return anytime soon.
The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden hue, by the time someone picked up the box.