One by one, memories were pulled from their hiding places.
The beautifully bound notebooks filled with unsent love letters to Calvin—trashed. Pages upon pages of words written in hope, in yearning, in heartbreak.
The adhesive bandages Calvin had grabbed for her during their college military training—meticulously preserved for years but never truly used—trashed.
The expensive wristwatch she had spent months saving up for, working part-time jobs to buy him a meaningful gift for his 20th birthday, only to have him dismiss it because Iris had already given him something better—trashed.
Each item tossed into the box felt like ripping a piece of herself away, but Amber didn't stop. By the time she was finished, the room looked emptier, cleaner, as though her presence had already begun to fade.
Amber pulled open the bottom drawer of her nightstand, retrieving a worn leather folder. Inside were neatly arranged documents: her finalized contract with a company in Hong Kong, a work visa and her one-way plane ticket.
She was finally letting him go.