After I Left, He Begged Me to Come Back

On the morning of Valentine's Day, just as my boyfriend left, I received a bouquet of roses.

“See you at the usual spot tonight, sexy. —T”

I furrowed my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in as I stared at the familiar handwriting on the card. My boyfriend never spoke to me like this. Before I could think much further, my phone buzzed. “Amara, did a bouquet of flowers just show up at your place?”

“Don’t touch it, whatever you do. It was meant for my boss, and I sent it to the wrong address by mistake.”

I kept my tone steady, replying, “It just got here; I haven’t touched a thing.”

——

As I folded the card and placed it back, Trevor Harris came rushing through the door, his face flushed and breathless as if he’d sprinted all the way home.

He paused, taking in the scene with a cautious glance before smacking his forehead, clearly regretting something.

“Look at me,” he sighed, “I’ve been so swamped at work that I mixed everything up.”

A moment of silence passed, thick with unspoken words. I remained quiet.

Realizing the shift in the atmosphere, Trevor hurried to explain, “Amara, please don’t misunderstand. I really ordered this for my boss, Mr. Tatewell. You can check my WhatsApp if you want. He gave me the instructions yesterday at 6:30 p.m.”

Unlocking his phone, he offered it to me, his face full of sincerity. “I’m not lying.”

Mr. Tatewell... "T." My eyes briefly flickered away, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t say I didn’t believe you.”

Hearing that, Trevor’s hand froze for a moment before he smoothly pulled his phone back, his expression softening. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his arms around me and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“Don’t overthink it. Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Once things settle at work, I’ll make it up to you.”

But as my mind lingered on the words from the card, I pulled away from his embrace. He blinked in surprise, staring at his empty hands.

“I might have to work late tonight, I—” He stopped, then added, “Forget it. No matter how busy I am, I’ll be back to spend the evening with you.”

He flashed a smile, pinching my cheek before leaning in for another kiss.

I turned my head slightly, trying to play it cool. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?"

"Alright, see you tonight.”

With a swift grab of the bouquet, he hurried out the door to get going.

If someone had told me Trevor was seeing someone else, I’d have laughed it off. But the moment he left, something felt off. He didn’t go to the office as he’d said. Instead, he headed straight for the south side of town.

An hour later, I checked my phone’s location tracker—and there he was, at a hotel in South City.

Once doubt took root, it began to grow, winding its way through my thoughts.

To clear up any potential misunderstanding, I quickly shot him a message on WhatsApp: [Did you make it to the office?]

Within a minute, he replied: [Just got here.]

[No worries, I wasn’t late.]

My heart dropped like a stone, sinking to the bottom of my chest.

But I clung to a fragile thread of hope, convincing myself there must be a reason he couldn’t share.

Then, out of nowhere, Trevor sent a voice message.

Without even bothering to listen to his voice message, I sent him a screenshot of his location.

The app we had downloaded when we first started dating, meant for sharing locations, now served a purpose I never anticipated.

Inside, I still hoped for a logical explanation that would calm my racing thoughts.

The words “The other party is typing...” flickered on the screen, dragging on as if time had slowed. Finally, his message appeared: [It’s not what you think.]

Five words. A hollow attempt at reassurance that felt more like an excuse than the truth.

A heavy knot formed in my chest, fear settling deep as I dared not imagine the truth.

The next thing I knew, he was calling me on video, his flustered expression giving him away. "Amara, I—"

I didn’t wait for him to finish. “That bouquet this morning, and now you're at a hotel. Tell me, what part of this isn’t what I think it is?"

“None of it!” he said quickly, his voice strained. “I didn’t mean to deceive you. I’m here with Mr. Tatewell at the Silverwood Hotel for a business meeting. I didn’t go to the office. And this morning, you seemed a little off, so I didn’t want you to overthink it, which is why I didn’t tell you.”

Trevor’s voice lowered, a hint of resignation creeping in. "You know how it is in our field. When the boss speaks, we don’t get to choose where we go."

Seeing his eyes cast down, my heart softened, reluctant to keep pressing.

He seldom shared much about his work with me. Despite the impressive pay of his role as the CEO’s assistant, he always felt it wasn’t a job of pride, always at the beck and call of someone else.

And I couldn’t blame him. With a degree and just a year or two of experience, securing a role like his was no small feat in today’s competitive market.

As I stood there, lost in thought, a voice cut through the stillness from off-screen. "Assistant Trevor, the boss is waiting for you."

There was a teasing tone as the voice added, "Oh, is your girlfriend checking up on you?"

The screen shook for a split second, and I caught a brief flash of something bright before Trevor abruptly ended the call.

Not long after, another message from him popped up. [Amara, whatever your doubts, don’t doubt my love for you.]

[Please.]

[I’ll explain everything tonight.]

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but Trevor’s brief vulnerability didn’t completely sway me.

Some things couldn’t be brushed aside; they needed to be confronted directly.

A relationship tainted by doubt could never stand the test of time.

Just as I was about to wait for Trevor to explain, a friend request from an unfamiliar name flashed across my screen.

The following message read: [I’d like to talk to you about Travis.]