Our Anniversary Ends with an End

After they left, I stripped my bed of all the sheets and replaced them. Exhausted, I collapsed into bed and slept deeply.

By the time I woke up, the sky outside was already dark, and Yohann had returned home from somewhere. I heard him moving around in the kitchen, and moments later, he said, "Come eat. I brought back some takeout."

I didn't hesitate. I was hungry, so I made my way to the dining table. As I sat down and looked at the food before me, I couldn't help but pause.

Back when Yohann had first started his business, all the long nights and constant drinking had really messed with his stomach. The doctor had insisted he stick to a light diet, and I had taken cooking classes to make sure he stayed on track.

It seemed like another lifetime ago now, but there was still a faint scar on the back of my hand from when I'd accidentally burned myself cooking for him.

Absentmindedly, I traced the mark while Yohann, unaware of my thoughts, picked up a piece of fatty braised pork and placed it on my plate.

"This is from that restaurant Zandria loves. It's really good; you should try it," he said casually; his tone softened when he mentioned her name as if offering a small olive branch.

But I felt nothing as I stared at the food in front of me, just an empty indifference. Yohann didn't seem to notice. As he continued eating, he added, "Zandria has been looking forward to this trip for a long time. Since you couldn't join in on a lot of the activities, we're taking her out to dinner tomorrow. You should apologize to her."

I blinked, taken aback. So this was what it was about. He wasn't trying to mend things with me; he just wanted me to apologize to her.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "Why should I apologize?"

His expression darkened, and he set down his chopsticks. "Ysha, there's no shame in admitting when you're wrong. But pretending you don't know what you did? That's another thing entirely."

I stared at him. My voice was cold but steady. "There were surveillance cameras there, Yohann. Everything that happened is recorded. If your memory's so foggy, feel free to check the footage."

"You—!" He started, clearly angry, but I was already done with the conversation.

Yohann stood there, clearly infuriated but at a complete loss for words. He just glared at me.

However, I remained calm and indifferent.

He finally snorted angrily and snapped, "You're being completely unreasonable! Stay home and think about what you've done. When you've reflected on your mistakes, come and find me."

With that, he grabbed his jacket and walked out, slamming the door so hard the sound echoed through the large living room.

For a moment, the space felt eerily quiet, leaving me alone, standing in silence.

I bit my lip, exhaling slowly, before pulling out my phone to contact a courier. I had already planned to move out, and it was time to start arranging for a pickup.

I'd accumulated a lot of belongings over the three years I'd lived here, and moving everything at once wasn't possible. So, I decided to take things step by step.

The next afternoon, as I handed the first set of packages to the delivery person at the door, Yohann unexpectedly returned. His face was stern, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the boxes.

He looked at me stiffly, his voice tight. "Are you sending something?"

I signed the receipt and answered dismissively, "Yes."

If he had paid closer attention, he would've noticed that some of the furniture in the living room was already missing. But he didn't notice. He simply grabbed some documents from the desk and left again without another word.

For the next few days, Yohann didn't come back. There were no calls, no messages. Just silence.

But I saw updates on his social media.

Apparently, he and Zandria had gone on a trip together. They visited places I had never been to, and they took photos I had never had the chance to take. In every picture, they looked so carefree, so happy—like nothing else in the world mattered.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly to myself as I scrolled through their posts. After a brief pause, I clicked the "like" button on one of them. That small gesture was my silent blessing, a way of saying goodbye without uttering a word.

After that, I went back to what I had been doing—packing the last of my belongings into my suitcase. The time had come for me to move on, to leave this chapter behind for good.

As I finished up and reached for my phone again, I noticed a new message from Yohann, sent just three minutes ago.

[Once you've thought about apologizing to Zandria, come find me] He wrote, followed by a location in a nearby city.

I stared at the screen for a moment before replying calmly. [I won't bother you two. Have a good trip]

After a brief pause, I typed again. [Oh, and I've transferred my portion of the rent to you. Please accept it.]

I sent him the money for the time I'd lived here, cutting the last financial tie between us.

A minute later, my phone buzzed again. It was Yohann, responding with confusion. "?"

I didn't reply.

Another message came shortly after: [Ysha, what's the meaning of this?]

He sent yet another one, more impatient this time: [Reply! Explain yourself!]