Even in the best moments when I thought she was happiest, she had never smiled like this.
When the car pulled up to the airport, Wanda stepped out quickly, dragging her suitcase behind her and not even saying goodbye.
Her steps were brisk and determined.
She was running toward her happiness, finally free of the cage she believed had restrained her for decades.
Watching her retreating figure, I felt a deep, unshakable sadness.
Decades of my devotion, my unreserved love...
All of it… meant nothing.
When she left, she did not hesitate or show even the slightest trace of nostalgia.
It was as if every moment with me had been a burden.
Returning home, I felt hollow as I sat in the wicker chair by the window, gazing out at the golden autumn leaves for the entire afternoon.
I tried reasoning with myself, telling myself to let go.
But it was harder than I imagined.
Each minute after her departure felt like an eternity of quiet suffering.
I tried not to think of her, but questions circled endlessly in my head.
Had she arrived safely in Estoria?
She always feared the cold. Had she dressed warmly enough?
The food there was so different from what she was used to. Could she adapt?