Goodbye to Yesterday's Love

[Nate: If you're feeling down, come with us on a trip. We can take a break together. It will help you feel better.]

I read their message slowly, marveling at how easily they brushed aside everything that had happened. No apology, no inquiry about my health; only concern about the house sale and how my departure might impact Demi.

Moments later, Demi posted another update on social media, a perfectly staged photo of her crying, paired with a caption that made my stomach turn.

She wrote, [What should I do now? My cousin seemed so mad at me until she sold the house I stayed in. Where should I go now?]

I stared at her words, seething. I knew it was her way of ensuring that Morgan and Nate would rally around her, misled into believing I had sold the house solely out of spite. And judging by their messages, it worked.

They seemed genuinely worried, completely misunderstanding my reasons for leaving Stanmore. Although, in truth, I did want to be as far away from Demi as possible.

Taking a steadying breath, I typed a response to our group chat, my fingers moving calmly despite the numbness in my heart.

[Ariel: I'm buying a camper van to make it easier for me to travel the world. Demi can stay with you both until she finishes college. After all, it seems like she's always in danger when she's with me, right? This is for the best.]

A pause followed, and I could almost feel the reluctance in their eventual replies, which held a grudging acceptance.

That was the confirmation I had been waiting for. My well-being no longer mattered to them; their sole concern was Demi.

I looked at the screen, feeling strangely detached, as if I were already gone from their lives.

“Goodbye, Nate. Goodbye, Morgan,” I whispered, closing the chat window and slipping my phone into my bag.

Once I finished checking everything for my departure, I called a taxi and gave the driver my grandparents’ address.

As the car pulled away from my house, the memories of Stanmore began filling my mind, each place we passed triggering scenes from my life here.

We drove past the small playground where Nate, Morgan, and I had spent endless hours as children, the site of our games and laughter.

Next, we passed the cozy gameboard café, a favorite spot from our college days. We stayed there until closing, refusing to leave until one of us won.

Then we passed the hospital, where I had spent so many days in treatment for my CHD.

I remembered Nate and Morgan visiting me regularly, their presence a steady comfort as they would play games, talk about their day, and distract me from the sterile loneliness of hospital life.

We also passed each of my schools, then the university where me, Nate, and Morgan had encouraged one another, reminding each other of class schedules and making time to study together in the student lounge.

My memories of Stanmore were painted with their presence, as if we were inseparable. But the truth told me that it was just a memory.

Then, at the end of our journey, the road turned toward the place where my father had saved Demi, the road where he had suffered the brain hemorrhage that would claim his life.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, and decided to let go of those painful memories. When I opened my eyes again, we were beyond the city limits.

An hour later, we arrived at my grandparents’ house. I had informed them of my visit, so they were waiting outside, seated comfortably in their rocking chairs, cups of coffee in hand as they enjoyed their usual morning ritual.

The butler, Alfonzo, promptly stepped forward to open my taxi door.

“Miss Johnson, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Alfonzo greeted me with a respectful smile.

I stepped out of the car, smiling warmly. “Thank you, Alfonzo.”

I walked up the porch steps and immediately went to my grandparents, hugging my grandfather first. He had been my mentor, teaching me about business, guiding me in jewelry design, and regularly sending me support, even in the most difficult times.

Then I hugged my grandmother, who had been my constant companion after my mother left for Warlington, teaching me to cook and bake, even if I had never quite mastered it.

“Grandpa, Grandma, I missed you both so much. How have you been?”

Grandpa grinned, patting my hand. “As you can see, we’re still healthy as ever and feeling younger each day,” he said with a wink.

Grandma laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, your grandpa and his jokes.”

Then she looked at me warmly. “Ariel, we have prepared all your favorite dishes. Come inside, let’s enjoy lunch together.”

“Of course. I can’t wait,” I said, feeling a warmth in my heart as I followed them inside.

We chatted at the dining table, savoring the meal, laughter and stories filling the air.

Finally, I took a deep breath and shared the reason for my visit, telling them about my mother’s hospitalization and my decision to leave for Warlington.

My grandparents listened intently, sadness touching their expressions, but they nodded in understanding.

Grandma reached over, holding my hand tightly. “Ariel, we understand, but it’s hard to see you go so suddenly. We will miss you terribly.”

I squeezed her hand, my voice gentle. “I promise I will come back to visit every year, Grandma. And I will stay as long as I can each time.”

Tears glistened in her eyes as she smiled. “Please do. Let us know ahead of time so we can prepare your room. You can stay overnight and make the visit longer.”

Grandpa joined in, his voice teasing but full of love. “And don’t come alone next time. Bring your husband and children to fill this house with even more joy.”

Grandma swatted him playfully. “Don’t push her, honey. Let Ariel take her time.”

He chuckled, unfazed. “It’s just a wish. There’s nothing wrong with hoping for a little more family around here.”

I watched them, admiration filling me. After more than fifty years of marriage, they were still so in love, so playful and supportive.

I hoped, one day, to find that kind of bond, that unwavering connection that could weather any storm.

After lunch, we took a walk around the garden, talking and laughing, cherishing our time together.

As the sun began to dip, casting warm colors across the sky, it was time for me to leave.

My flight was scheduled for later that night, so I had planned to say my goodbyes in the quiet of the afternoon and make my way to the airport in peace.

But as I was about to step into the taxi, I heard familiar voices and turned to see Nate and Morgan pulling into the driveway, with Demi in tow.

Demi immediately ran forward, throwing herself into our grandparents’ arms with a bright smile. “Grandpa, Grandma, I missed you both so much!”

As the youngest among us, Demi had always been doted on by our grandparents, who greeted her with warm smiles. Yet their eyes were still rimmed with red from the sadness of my leave, a detail that tugged painfully at my heart.

I had hoped to share the moment quietly with them, to give a final goodbye without the weight of an audience. But seeing Demi cozied up to them, soaking up the attention, made my exit feel even lonelier.

Nate, noticing the redness around my own eyes, frowned with suspicion. “Ariel, have you been crying?”