Farewell to Five Years Love

When I spotted Nicolas Reed across a few potted plants at the Italian restaurant, it was the first time I truly realized how small this city could feel. Throughout the meal, my gaze kept drifting toward him. Watching Nicolas prepare slices of meat and mix sauce for that girl made bitterness well up inside me. It seemed his gentleness wasn't just for me.

Unable to resist, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. I watched as he glanced at his phone before silencing it. A moment later, I received a text from Nicolas: “In a meeting, be good.” I stared blankly at the man not far from me, his face wearing a gentle, warm smile, and felt tears gathering in my eyes.

Violet Salazar, my long-time friend, looked at me with a mixture of frustration and concern. “Why don’t you just talk to him properly? Torturing yourself like this is pointless.”

We’ve been friends for eighteen years, and she knows me inside out. She can read my emotions through every little gesture, even the way I breathe.

“If you can’t let go, just be honest with him. Five years together isn’t nothing. Consider giving both of you another chance.”

I closed my eyes, knowing she was right. I couldn’t let go of Nicolas or the years we had shared. Despite the pain, I had to swallow my pride and give us both a chance. I lowered my head and sent Nicolas a message: “Come back early tonight, I want to talk.”

I was willing to give our five-year relationship another shot. If he was ready to come back after we talked, I would endure the heartache to stay with him. However, I waited at home all night, prepared, and Nicolas never returned.

Desolation filled me as I repeatedly dialed his number but received no answer. I sat on the sofa, waiting until dawn, without a single word from him. It was then that Instagram pushed a trending topic to my feed, labeled as someone I might know. With a slip of my finger, I clicked it, and a familiar cat profile picture appeared.

The most recent post, updated just half an hour ago, read: “Who says true love can’t be found on a blind date?” Accompanying it were photos of the sunrise by the coast, and one of them in a passionate kiss. I stared at the intimate picture of the two, unable to react.

Nicolas returned not long after, bringing with him a bouquet of sunflowers and some pastries from a downtown bakery. I recognized the logo on the packaging, realizing he had taken that girl to the place where we watched our first sunrise together. Before I could ask, Nicolas apologized first: “There were so many things to handle at work, I didn’t check my phone. You called all night; was there something you wanted to talk about?”

As I looked him over, I noticed a vibrant red mark on his neck and hesitantly asked, “Nicolas, do you still love me?”

He chuckled softly, as if I’d asked something amusing. “Don’t you know whether I love you? I was genuinely overwhelmed with work last night; don’t overthink it.”

“Then when are we getting married?” I asked.

Nicolas hesitated, then tousled my hair playfully, saying, “What kind of girl asks so directly? Once I earn enough, we’ll get married, okay?”

Hearing lie after lie, my heart was filled with reluctance, yet I forced a smile. “Okay.”

I decided to take a gamble. If I won, he would come back; if I lost, I would leave.