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After I Left, He Begged Me to Come Back Novel Cover

After I Left, He Begged Me to Come Back

On Valentine's Day morning, right after her boyfriend walks out the door, Amara receives an unexpected delivery of roses. The accompanying card features familiar handwriting with a suggestive message signed by "T," a style completely unlike her partner's. Before she can process her unease, a frantic phone call warns her to stay away from the bouquet, claiming it was misdelivered and meant for the caller's boss. Keeping her composure, Amara lies about having handled the mysterious gift.
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Chapter 3

I came home that evening, setting the takeout I’d grabbed on the way in front of me. The soft, yellow lights cast a peaceful glow over the room, and I sat there, unusually calm.

A half-hour later, Trevor walked in, wearing a smile that was as if nothing had happened.

"Amara, happy Valentine's Day," he greeted, his voice full of affection.

My eyes were drawn to the bouquet of sunflowers he carried in his hands.

He came toward me with excitement as though showing off a rare treasure. "Please don’t scold me for wasting money. A single bouquet won’t buy a house, and it’s a rare occasion. Your happiness means more than anything."

But all I could think about was how tiny this bouquet looked compared to the extravagant roses from earlier that morning.

Back when we first started dating, Trevor loved showering me with gifts. He hadn’t graduated yet but worked part-time for months to afford a necklace I’d casually mentioned liking.

I would always tell him he was being wasteful, but deep down, I couldn’t hide how much I adored it.

What woman didn’t appreciate thoughtful surprises? But I always felt bad for him, so I’d often return the gesture with a gift of equal value. Over time, though, his habit of giving gifts faded.

My thoughts snapped back to the present as Trevor leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "I wasn’t honest about today’s meeting. I upset you, so I’ll punish myself by sleeping in the study. Will you forgive me?"

I turned off my phone screen. I had originally planned to confront him head-on, but seeing him now, acting like a child apologizing for a small mistake, I decided to wait. I wanted to see how far he would take this act.

When I remained silent, Trevor pressed on, his voice soft but pleading. "Please don’t be mad. I swear, I was only picking up the flowers for my boss this morning. Who even gives roses anymore? They’re so cliché. I’m married to a future art master! How could I have such bad taste?”

He flashed a smile. “Did you like the sunflowers I got you?"

I subtly shifted away from his embrace, offering nothing more than a cool "Hmm."

The smile on Trevor’s face faltered, his expression dimming.

“I picked each one by hand,” he whined. “My hands even got pricked, and you’re not concerned about me?”

“Amara.”

“Wife.”

His voice was soft, full of affection as he kissed my cheek. I turned my face, distancing myself from him.

The sting in my eyes grew, and my hands, clenched in frustration, paled.

Every time he messed up in the past, this act worked, and I caved every time.

But not now.

I fought to keep the tears at bay, forcing myself not to cry as I turned the conversation.

“Let’s eat.”

His tense shoulders slowly softened, and I ate quietly. After a while, I noticed him staring off, lost in thought.

"Does the food not suit you? Or did you eat your fill before coming home?"

"Huh?" He looked up, confused, setting down his spoon and fork.

I met his innocent gaze, and at that moment, the walls I’d built around myself started to crumble.

"Trevor," I said. "Do you remember when we first started dating? We promised, no matter what, we wouldn’t go to bed with doubts or secrets between us."

Before he could respond, I hit play on the video, thrusting it in front of him. The air filled with the nauseating sounds of moaning and groaning. I watched his face crumble, my sneer widening as sarcasm laced my voice.

“You’re not hungry because you’ve already had your fill outside?”

Trevor froze his hand on the table, shaking uncontrollably.

I met his eyes, pushing further. “I asked you a question. Isn’t this little secret of yours thrilling?”

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