I stayed in the hospital for three days. On the day I was discharged, I received a call from the embassy. My visa for New Zealand had been approved. Funny how the only good news I’d gotten in weeks was about leaving everything behind.
Outside the embassy, the sun hit my face. I raised my hand to block it. The ring I had worn for two years–our wedding band–was already gone. All that remained was a faint, stubborn imprint on my skin. Like a scar that forgot it wasn’t welcome anymore.
It was over. Finally.
After collecting the documents, I headed straight to a law office and drafted the divorce agreement myself. My name glided over the paper without pause. And then I dialed Bianca.
“Meet me,” I said.
I chose a café she loved. When she arrived, she was dressed in cream cashmere, with suspicion in her eyes and a threat already on her tongue. “If you’re here to start something, Thalia, I swear, when Troy returns-”
I didn’t speak. I reached into my bag and pulled out the wedding band. I slid it across the table toward her. “Try it on.”
She stared at me like I was insane, then slowly picked up the ring and slipped it on her finger.
It fit. Perfectly.
She froze.
“You’ve always wanted to know why Troy avoids you,” I said calmly, my voice sharper than I meant. “You think it’s because of me. Or maybe because you did something wrong. But
it’s not that.”
I leaned forward, locking eyes with her. “He avoids you because he loves you, Bianca. Not as a sister. Not as family. Not in any way that’s innocent.”
Bianca’s hand trembled.
“He had a room in the estate. A hidden one, decorated with portraits of you. A doll, too. Life–sized. You don’t want to know what he did to it.”
Her breath hitched, but I didn’t stop.
“He kissed you on that couch the night you fell asleep, remember? You thought it was a
dream.”
“That ring,” I nodded toward her finger, “he had it made in your size. You were always the bride in his mind. I was the mask.”
Bianca looked like the wind had been knocked out of her. Conflicted emotions crashed over her face–shock, disgust, wonder… maybe even joy.
And I felt nothing. Just emptiness.
I stood, pulled out the signed divorce papers, and placed them neatly in front of her. “Give
Chanter Q
2/2
44.09%
22:09 Sat, 24 May
this to him when he returns. Tell him I hope you two live happily ever after.”
“Thalia…” she finally whispered. “Where will you go?”
I didn’t answer her. I just smiled without meaning it and said, “Anywhere that’s mine.”
50%
Then I turned and walked away from them both–Bianca and Troy. Two souls bound by twisted longing. Two people who tore me apart, piece by piece, and didn’t even know they were doing it.
As I wheeled my suitcase through the terminal hours later, a message lit up my phone.
It was from Troy. He sent a photo. A thin silver bracelet, ordinary. No box. No note.
Troy: I just landed. Got you something.
I stared at it for a long moment, then laughed under my breath. So he bought Bianca a necklace once worn by a royal–and me? A souvenir from the airport.
I wasn’t even mad. Not anymore because I don’t love Troy Green anymore. He could no longer destroy me. This is the end.
I froze. I tucked my phone away and moved toward the boarding gate. But as I looked up, Troy was there. He was walking through the VIP terminal in a black coat, dragging his suitcase behind him.
He didn’t see me. Didn’t look back. And I didn’t call out to him.
I let him pass because I had finally learned that love should not feel like waiting to be chosen.
So I turned away. I blocked his number. Deleted every thread. And for the first time in years, I walked in the opposite direction.