The scrape of a chair being pushed back snapped Abigail out of her daze. She looked up just in time to see him stand and walk out the door, the sound of it slamming shut ringing in her ears.
Left alone, Abigail forced herself to continue eating. Each bite felt mechanical, and tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to swallow. Her heart was a storm of pain and confusion, the ache in her chest nearly suffocating.
Once upon a time, those same words had been meant for her.
“You don’t have to cook. I’ll make you whatever you want to eat,” he used to say, his voice filled with warmth.
The words hadn’t changed, but the person they were meant for had.
The following days passed in emptiness. Sebastian didn’t return, and the coldness in the house deepened as New Year’s Eve approached.
Summoning her courage, Abigail sent him a few messages.
When will you be back? Will we spend New Year’s Eve together?
Her heart ached as she typed those words, memories flooding her mind. Every year before this, Sebastian had insisted they spend New Year’s Eve together. He had even made her swear to it as if their shared celebration was sacred.
But now, the oath seemed forgotten.
The messages remained unanswered, her screen a stark reminder of his silence.
Until New Year’s Eve, Sebastian still didn’t return. As the hours ticked by, the emptiness in the house grew unbearable, and Abigail made another call.
This time, when she was about to give up, he answered.
“Hello, what’s the matter?” His voice was cold, impatient, as if her call was an inconvenience.
Abigail’s heart clenched, but she forced herself to speak softly. “Sebastian, can we celebrate the New Year together today?”
A beat of silence followed, then his tone turned sharper. “Did I tell you not to call me that again? I find it disgusting. And New Year’s Eve? It’s just part of an agreement. Don’t take it seriously.”
The dull ache in her chest sharpened, piercing her like a knife. She swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill.
“Sebastian, I—”
Before she could say more, a cheerful voice interrupted. Gabriella’s voice, bright and carefree, was unmistakable.
“Sebastian, the fireworks are starting! Come quickly!”
“Okay,” he responded, his tone so gentle it was unrecognizable from the one he’d just used with her.
And then, without another word, the call ended.