Goodbye, My Lost Love

Chapter 12

He had promised Victoria he'd pick her up at nine yesterday. She'd agreed. So why was he only met with silence when he called her name?

The room felt suffocating, every corner shadowed by an emptiness he couldn't shake. The morning sun streamed through the windows, but instead of filling the space with warmth, it only made the silence feel louder, more oppressive.

Then, something caught his eye, the photo wall in the living room. It was completely bare. His heart skipped a beat. The house felt... hollow. Like she'd never been there at all.

"No, she must've packed everything up," he muttered to himself, trying to convince himself. "She always liked things neat, rearranging stuff every few weeks. She probably just moved it somewhere else."

But even as he said the words, unease gnawed at him. He hurried to the bedroom, dread swelling inside him with every step. The wardrobe was almost empty, just his clothes hanging there. The drawers? Empty too, save for a few documents and his ID. Even the bedsheets had been freshly changed, the faint scent of detergent still lingering. There was no trace of her. No sign of the warmth she used to bring to this place.

The study wasn't any better. On the desk was a single, yellowed diary, Victoria's.

His hands trembled as he opened it. The pages were filled with memories, their first meeting, their growing affection, all the dreams they'd shared. It was their love story written out, a love that had once felt unbreakable.

But now? Each word cut through him like a blade, twisting deeper with every sentence. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating him. His heart ached as memories flooded in, eight years they had shared together, two orphans who found a family in each other. They were supposed to marry.

The last page was written in fresh ink.

"William, this is where we end."

The date on the page? Today.

His eyes moved to the wedding dress hanging on the wall. His throat tightened. It was slashed open, the bodice cut down to the skirt. He could feel his vision blur with tears, but he fought them back, clenching his fist to keep it together. He reached for his phone, his hand shaking as he dialed her number.

"Victoria Amelia, pick up the phone. Please… just pick up." His voice cracked, thick with emotion. But on the other end, there was nothing. No familiar voice, no comforting sound. Just silence.

His gaze swept over the room again, every corner, every object that once held a memory of her. But then, his eyes landed on the calendar on the dining table.

It had once marked the countdown, two days left. Now, it was blank except for a single note written in her handwriting:

"William, I won't marry you. I wish you and Ava happiness."

The words hit him like a punch to the chest. The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. It was cold, suffocating. The weight of it all threatened to crush him.

Just when he thought he couldn't bear it anymore, the phone rang.

His heart leapt. Maybe it was Victoria. Maybe she was calling to explain.

But when he checked the screen, his stomach sank.

"Ava."

"William, has your wife picked up yet? We're all waiting for you up here in the mountains. Is she still mad at me? Is she not coming?"

Frustration surged through him. The weight of Victoria's words, "I wish you and Ava happiness", echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his failures.

She still cared. She always had. But she had pretended not to, while quietly preparing to leave.

She had grown disillusioned. She couldn't keep fighting for something that had already withered. He had hurt her, choosing Ava time and time again. Each decision was a betrayal.

He had been blind. How had he missed the signs? How had he let it go on this long?

She had been so excited about the wedding dress, a symbol of the life they'd planned together. But instead of honoring her, he'd let Ava wear it. He had promised her a trip they'd always dreamed of, but he broke that promise to stay with Ava's parents. He had vowed to revisit their alma mater, but left that behind for Ava's call.

And now… now, Victoria was gone.