The cold finality of Seraphine Mancini’s call rang in Luther Harword’s ears, leaving him stunned and uncharacteristically silent.
Meanwhile, Seraphine sat in the back of her cab, the low hum of the city filling the emptiness his voice once occupied. The world outside blurred, but her thoughts were painfully sharp, replaying moments that no longer felt like they belonged to her.
When she stepped out of the cab, the buzzing of her phone disrupted the quiet. A flood of notifications from Luther’s company group chat demanded her attention. Against her better judgment, she opened the app.
Her screen filled with messages, the unread count soaring past 99+. A photo, posted by Cornelia, sat at the top of the feed.
The image showed Luther, shirtless, crouched under a dim light, his hands working intently on exposed wiring. His focused expression was shadowed but unmistakable. Cornelia’s caption read:
“Who else has a boss this dedicated? Lifetime contract, please. Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
The comments below were no better:
“When did Mr. Harword become that guy? Lucky indeed!”
“Who knew our boss had a soft side? Cornelia, we’re all jealous!”
“Forget Mrs. Harword. I’d take five minutes in your shoes!”
Seraphine stared at the screen, her lips curving into a humorless smirk. The man these people admired was not the one she had spent eight years with. That man had vanished, replaced by a stranger who performed devotion for an audience while leaving her to fade into the background.
Without hesitation, she deleted the chat and exited the group, severing yet another thread tethering her to a past that no longer existed.
Back in her apartment, Seraphine began packing, her movements deliberate and brisk. Each item she tucked into her suitcase felt lighter than the weight in her chest. As her hand brushed the edge of a forgotten photo album, she paused.
She opened it carefully and was immediately confronted with memories. The album chronicled the grand promises Luther once made—9,999 surprises, one for every step they would take toward a shared future. Each photo represented a moment he had claimed was special.
Now, the album was nearly full, with one blank page left.