Chapter 13
Joseph cried until he could barely make a sound, his constant tears kept bothering me. He insisted that he didn’t want a divorce and wanted to go abroad with me.
I couldn’t change his mind, so in the end, I pretended to agree.
He embraced me, overjoyed to have me back.
I accepted his hug with indifference.
On a bright morning, I quietly packed my things.
Eventually, I opened the door and glanced at Joseph.
He was still fast asleep.
I said my goodbye softly.
I took one last look at the house, feeling a wave of emotion. If nothing changes, this will be the last time I see it.
My plan is to settle abroad once I leave.
I took a taxi to the airport by myself, sat down, and waited for my flight.
My phone kept buzzing with messages from Joseph.
“Emerson, where are you? Where did you go?”
“Emerson, why aren’t you replying?”
The excuses he gave me, like “just working overtime“, ended up staying all night at Hailey’s place.
The nights he claimed were “just a regular party“, yet I was purposely
left out.
Those moments he said it was “just a normal conversation“, but the chat history was erased.
Until this moment, everything was reduced to my last response, “Consider this my way of collecting interest.”
When I arrived in London, a soft, humid breeze greeted me, carrying
the scent of coffee.
The place I rented was tucked away in an old town alley, not far from the school.
Opening the wooden shutters, you could see the twisting cobblestone street and the old bakery shop at the corner.
I crased all traces of contact with Joseph.
Like wiping away a pointless draft from a notebook.
Three years have passed, and I’m now used to beginning my mornings. with an iced americano.
I can comfortably chat and laugh with professors and peers, speaking
in a fluent London accent.
The jewelry collection I designed made its debut at Milan Fashion Week.
But no one realizes that the intricate geometric shapes hide untold
regrets.
At three in the morning in my office, my phone suddenly lit up. The number that I had long deleted, yet still recognized, blinked seven times stubbornly in the dark.
When I hit the answer button, I heard labored breathing on the other
end.
With the sound of rain tapping on the window in the background, his voice, rough like sandpaper, came through, “Emerson, you lied to me. You said you wouldn’t divorce…”
I paused, realizing he must have gotten the divorce papers I sent.
My fingertips instinctively traced the nearly completed wedding ring on the design sketch.
The cold platinum lines shone under the desk light.
Outside, the neon lights reflected off the window, breaking my shadow into fragments.
I murmured softly, almost like a sigh, “Joseph, our marriage, just like the necklace you gave me, has already broken.”
It broke down many years ago.
“I’m doing fine, and I hope you are, too.”
It’s just… we don’t need to stay in touch anymore.
After the call ended, the sound of rain seemed to fade away.
It turns out that those restless nights have quietly transformed into hazy
marks in my memory.
Like two star paths that once crossed, they will eventually drift apart, following their separate routes in the vast expanse of the universe.
In the end, they will never cross paths again.
