I caught the quick intake of breath from Caleb, and even as he hastily tried to cover the receiver, it was too late—I had heard enough. A heavy silence fell, broken only by the faint clink of cutlery in the background. For a moment, he seemed frozen, as if realizing he had been caught in a lie.
“It’s fine,” I said softly, almost mechanically. “I can manage on my own.”
I wasn’t sure if I said it to reassure him—or perhaps to convince myself. My chest ached as I muttered the words, pretending they carried weight.
Just as I was about to end the call, his voice called out again, low and insistent. “Valencia… just head home. I’ll explain everything later.”
Explain what? Another string of carefully constructed lies? Another attempt to make me believe in a story that wasn’t true?
I ended the call without another word and arranged for a private driver to take me home. But when night fell, Caleb had still not returned.
I tried to sleep, but the distant hum of the city kept me awake. Through the window, I saw fireworks igniting the night sky, brilliant bursts of color that illuminated the skyline. Probably someone’s romantic gesture, I thought bitterly, my lips curling into a small, sour smile.
Unable to ignore the noise, I grabbed my tablet and returned to sketching bespoke wedding gowns for a client. As I worked, my finger brushed against the chat application, revealing a recent post from Marina.
It was a breathtaking image: fireworks bursting against the velvet night sky, accompanied by a caption dripping with sentiment:
"After half a lifetime away, I return. And here, the fireworks bloom—a welcome in all their glory."
I stared at the post for several long moments, heart sinking as my thoughts spiraled. Only when I tried to close the app did I realize Caleb’s account was still logged in on my tablet.
I didn’t want to see their interactions, didn’t want to be privy to their flirtations. With a sharp exhale, I logged out and set the tablet aside, refusing to let myself dwell on it.
The next morning, I arrived at the office feeling marginally more composed. The manager handed me my approved resignation letter, her expression a bittersweet mix of pride and sadness as she learned my reason for leaving: a bond marriage that would require me to relocate.
“I’m going to miss you, Valencia,” she said softly. “You’ve been one of the strongest members of my team.”