Quiet Goodbyes, A Love Without Tomorrow

The moment I decided to leave Vincent Thompson, I made three bold moves. First, I listed all the expensive gifts he had given me up for free online—buyers only needed to pay for shipping. Second, I secretly sold the apartment we’d bought for our future at a fraction of its value and shredded the million-dollar custom wedding gown I had yet to wear. Third, I erased myself from the world, signing up for a classified, decade-long national research project that required cutting all ties with the outside world—maybe even forever.

By the time Vincent had meticulously planned his perfect proposal, I had already vanished from his life. He never realized it, but I was quietly preparing to leave with every embrace, kiss and night he didn’t come home while playing ‘wedding’ with his childhood sweetheart. I had become the obedient, accommodating woman he claimed to adore, only to have him shatter my trust.

One night, he finally lost control and asked me, “Why don’t you get angry anymore? Do you not love me anymore?”

I avoided his gaze, my lips tight. But when I heard the flirtatious voice note from his childhood sweetheart, Zoe Williams, echo from his phone, I calmly made the call to confirm my decade-long national research project.

***

“Claire Olivia, are you absolutely certain?” My professor’s tone was grave. “This research project is top-secret. It’s a ten-year commitment. Once you enter, you may never be able to leave or contact anyone outside again.”

His voice softened and serious as he added, “You are my most brilliant student. I have to ask you to think this through carefully.”

I stood outside a bridal boutique, watching Zoe wear the wedding dress I had spent months designing and commissioning. She stood beside Vincent, their faces pressed close as they posed for photos.

Vincent also imitated the veil-lifting kiss, they were following a trend he had seen online. Then, as if to hammer the knife deeper into my chest, he removed his ring—the one meant for me—and slipped it onto her finger.

A pang struck my heart, but it passed quickly, leaving behind only numbness.

“I’m sure, Professor,” I replied, my voice calm. “You know, I am an orphan with no family or attachments. This is an honour—a chance to give back to my country. What more could I ask for?”

A year ago, my professor had invited me to join this program. But back then, I had just accepted Vincent’s proposal and could not bear to leave. Now, there was nothing I cared about.

Relieved, my professor said, “I will arrange it for you on my side. But it is urgent, so they will come to pick you up in a week. Use this time to settle your affairs. Don’t leave anything unresolved.”

As I ended the call, Zoe’s voice floated over to me. “Vincent, you’re the best! I really love this dress so much!”

The dress she wore was the one I had dreamed of wearing—custom-made by a top designer, a one-of-a-kind piece that took months to create. It was worth ten million dollars, the only one and I haven’t even worn it myself yet.

“It’s just a dress,” Vincent said gently, stroking her hair. “As long as you are happy.”

“But what if my sister-in-law sees? Won’t she be upset?”

Noticing me standing at the entrance, his face flashed with panic for a brief moment before quickly recovering. He released Zoe’s arm and said in a low voice, “Be a good girl. Go take it off and let her try it on.”

Zoe pouted, reluctant to part with the gown. “Just a little longer, please? She can wear it whenever she wants. I’ll never get the chance again.”

“Don’t be silly,” he replied, pinching her cheek with a laugh. “One day, you will find a boyfriend and have your own wedding dress to wear.”

“But who could ever compare to you, Vincent?” she said coyly.

They joked and flirted openly, without a care for my presence.

Afraid I would confront Zoe, Vincent impatiently turned to me, offering a flimsy explanation, “She’s just playing a wedding game, okay? Don’t get upset over this, okay?”

If this had been the past, I would have exploded—fighting, yelling, maybe even tearing the gown apart to ensure no one else could have it. But with my thought of leaving him only a week away, what was the point? Sometimes, silence was the loudest response.

For the first time, I was not angry. I was free.