Goodbye, My Lost Love

Chapter 16

"I regret it, Victoria. I really do," his voice cracked, raw with emotion.

"If I hadn't gotten tangled up with Ava… we could've been married by now. Maybe even had kids, don't you think?"

Another sob escaped him, his words tumbling over each other, desperate and unfiltered. "Victoria, I was wrong. I hurt you. I ruined everything."

As he wept, the man I once knew seemed like a stranger. His youthful face, once so full of life, was now weary and drained, regret had aged him in ways time never could.

Eight years had passed. Eight years of love and pain. And in that time, I'd built a wall around my heart so high, so impenetrable, that I no longer felt anger or sorrow, just… nothing.

I met his gaze with cold indifference, my voice steady and firm. "It's over. There's nothing left to fix."

His desperation deepened, his voice cracking as he pleaded, "But I'm still waiting for you, Victoria. I swear, I won't marry anyone else. Only you. Please."

I stared at him, disbelief flashing across my face. His eyes were filled with such raw desperation, as though the years of waiting would somehow undo the hurt he'd caused. He expected me to fall into his arms, to forgive him, to turn back time.

But I didn't. Not anymore.

"Victoria, could you, ?"

I cut him off before he could finish. My voice was softer now, but still firm, resolute. "I should've told you this sooner, but I got married three years ago."

His face drained of color, the light in his eyes vanishing as if I had pulled the rug out from under him.

The man I married wasn't a stranger, nor was he someone I'd been forced into loving. No, he was the one the country had chosen for me, after hearing about my academic success. But over time, we'd grown close. We were equals, two researchers with a shared passion, and, eventually, he became my partner in every way that mattered.

Just then, my husband walked into the room, holding a bouquet of flowers.

William's expression shattered the moment he saw him.

My husband was younger than me, ten years, to be exact, full of energy, life, and presence.

I smiled softly as the words rolled off my tongue with ease. "I guess I get it now. Everyone prefers someone younger."

My husband walked toward me with a grin, offering me the flowers, before turning to William with a knowing smirk.

"Wow, he's old," he chuckled, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

And in that moment, William cracked. The last traces of hope vanished from his eyes, replaced by confusion, hurt, and disbelief.

He stood there, frozen, as if the world had just crumbled around him. His face seemed to age in an instant.

Tears welled up in his eyes once again.

For ten years, he had clung to the belief that his love for me would eventually bring us back together. That the history we shared would be enough to overcome everything that had come between us.

But what he couldn't, what he would never understand, was that I had moved on. I had built a new life. A new partner. And this time, he was the one who couldn't fit into my world.

In that moment, as I looked at William, I saw something familiar in his eyes, a reflection of the love he once had for me. But it wasn't love for me anymore. It was a longing for the life we could've had. A life he had let slip through his fingers.

The realization hit him hard. He understood, finally, that the life I had now was not one he could be a part of.

With trembling hands, he pulled out the old ring I had worn for so long. A symbol of a love that had faded, a memory that would never return. He turned it into a necklace, placing it gently in my hands. The two rings, his and mine, now forever bound together, like two pieces of a past that could never be fixed.

"Wish you happiness," he said, his voice breaking, a final plea.

I held his gaze, unwavering, my heart cold.

He rushed to explain himself, but his words were meaningless. "I don't mean anything by it, Victoria. I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," I replied, my tone detached, as though I were speaking from a distance.

With a gentle nudge from my husband, I accepted the necklace from William's hands, letting the moment slip by without a second thought.

For just a brief second, I allowed myself to remember.

We had nothing back then, but we had each other. Our love had been pure, simple. Beneath the moonlight, we had laughed, held hands, kissed. For a fleeting moment, it had felt as though time had stopped.

Later, he'd bought me a grander diamond, planned a more elaborate proposal, but none of it could replace what we had back then. Those moments, those feelings, were irreplaceable.

I didn't need his late apologies. They meant nothing to me now.

As we reached the door, I slipped the necklace into the trash can, the weight of the past sinking with it.

I turned to leave, but not before I glanced back. William stood there, broken, alone. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of everything had crushed him.

But I didn't linger. I walked away, leaving the past behind.

In the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the twenty-year-old version of him, chasing after me with the same hopeful look. But my reality was different now.

My husband, full of life and youthful energy, stepped beside me. He gently took my hand, his voice warm and full of love.

"Victoria," he said, his words wrapped in tenderness, "I love you."

And with that, I finally closed the door on the past. The future was ours.

(The End)