The Hundredth Time She Ghosted

I'd been there since she had nothing.

Still meant nothing.

If I disappeared, she wouldn't even blink.

I was halfway through drafting my resignation when she showed up behind me.

I froze, then switched my screen like nothing happened.

She stared, voice sharp. "What are you writing?"

"Nothing. Just some contract drafts."

Her brows pulled together. She didn't catch on, just said, "Hedley, come with me."

As soon as she called me out, whispers exploded.

"Uh-oh, Hedley's in trouble with Ms. Quindt again."

Everyone thought Pierre was her boyfriend.

No one knew I was her fiancé.

In her office, she frowned.

"So I didn't come pick you up. Is that really worth sulking over and not coming home?"

I shook my head. "Snow was too heavy. Didn't seem smart."

True, but also a lie.

I didn't want to go back. I wanted out.

She didn't notice.

After a pause, she said, "About the proposal... I'll say yes."

Then handed me an invitation.

"Come with me tonight."

Front row seats. My favorite orchestra.

Her version of an apology.

I hesitated, then took it. She owed me that much.

She looked like she was about to say something—then her phone went off.

Shrill. Urgent.

She bolted.

Pierre. Of course.

Only he could make her drop everything.

After she left, I printed my resignation and brought it to Mr. Clarkson, the Deputy CEO.

He blinked. "Hedley, you're resigning... is it because of Ms. Quindt?"

I pressed my lips together. Funny, really.

Everyone thought I was quitting over her attitude.

No one knew it was because she broke me past fixing.

When I nodded, he sighed and signed it.

On my way out, I ran into Sonia and Pierre.

The Borevia's favorite couple.

Her eyes darkened. "Hedley, if there's work to report, do it later."

Then she brushed past me, Pierre right there beside her.

Her look said, 'Don't start.'

I didn't.

But that night, I still went to the concert.

The hall was packed, except for her empty seat.

Before, I'd always wait for her.

This time, I went in alone.

Listened.

She never showed.

And I wasn't even mad.

Five years gone.

No point clinging now.

Whether she knew about the resignation or not—

I was leaving.

***

After the concert, I didn't go home. Just wandered around Harbor Front.

Fireworks tore through the sky.

Didn't feel a thing.