After His Engagement, I Deleted Ten Years of Secret Love

I went back to his Instagram profile and tapped the 'Unfollow' button. Then I removed him from my followers. The little blue tick next to his name no longer held any meaning.

A message popped up from Amelia. It was a picture of the two of them at a seaside restaurant, smiling.

"Ethan is so happy," the message read. "Thank you for your blessing, Ava."

I typed back a simple "You're welcome" and put the phone down.

Later, a notification from an old high school group chat appeared. Someone had tagged me.

"@Ava Miller, remember when Mr. Hayes came to our game and the entire girls' team got distracted? Haha! We all thought you two were a couple."

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

I typed a short reply: "He's my guardian. That's all."

That night, I dreamt of the first day I met him. He had stood there, looking down at me with an unreadable expression, a coldness that I mistook for maturity. Maybe if I had seen the indifference in his eyes back then, I wouldn't have fallen into this ten-year-long fantasy.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart aching with an emptiness so profound it felt like a physical wound.

I got out of bed and opened my closet. The designer dress he'd bought me, the scarves, the shoes. All of it had to go.

I pulled out the suitcase again and packed everything. This time, I didn't hesitate. I packed away every gift, every memory, every piece of him that had infiltrated my life.

As I dragged the heavy suitcase to the front door, I saw his car pull into the driveway. He and Amelia got out, laughing about something.

He saw me and the suitcase, and his smile vanished. "Where do you think you're going with that?"

"My dorm," I said calmly. "School starts soon. I'm moving in early."

"Useless things," I heard myself say. My voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

His jaw tightened. He looked at the suitcase, then at me. Without another word, he picked it up, walked over to the large charity donation bin at the end of the driveway, and dropped it in.

The thud echoed in the quiet evening.

"You're not moving into any dorm," he said, his voice hard as steel. "You will stay here until you leave for college."

He was still trying to control me.

I looked at the donation bin, where ten years of my feelings were now discarded as trash. A cold wave washed over me, extinguishing the last embers of warmth in my heart.

I didn't argue. I just turned and walked back into the house, up to my room.

Behind me, I heard Amelia ask, "Ethan, was that too harsh?"

His reply was distant, carried by the wind. "She's grown up. She needs to learn to let go of childish things."

I closed my door, leaning against it.

He was right.

I had grown up. And I was finally letting him go.