Goodbye, My Lost Love

Chapter 4

Ava's voice was soft, laced with pain. "William, it hurts so much…"

He hesitated. I could see it, the flicker of guilt, the tug of obligation, the weight of my presence.

I broke the silence first. "If it's that bad, you should take her to the hospital. Wouldn't want it turning into something serious."

My calmness threw him. He hadn't expected it.

William's brows knit together as he reached for my hand. "I'll take her to the clinic and come back for you. Wait for me at the entrance, okay?"

"Sure." My voice was light. Unbothered.

He searched my face, looking for something, anger, jealousy, anything. I gave him nothing. Finally, he let go, scooped Ava into his arms, and walked away.

I didn't wait.

I wasn't playing the fool this time.

As I turned to leave, my phone buzzed.

"Miss Victoria, there's an issue with one of the experiments," a junior researcher said, his voice tight with urgency. "We can't figure out what's going wrong. Could you come take a look?"

I changed course without hesitation.

Hours bled away as we worked through the problem. By the time we cracked it, the first hints of dawn were creeping through the lab windows.

The younger researchers looked at me with a mix of awe and reluctance.

"Miss Victoria, you're amazing!"

"Are you really leaving for that classified project?" one of them asked.

I nodded.

Another hesitated. "And… your wedding?"

I smiled faintly. "The country's work is more important."

What I didn't say, what I couldn't say, was that whether I stayed or left didn't seem to matter anymore.

Not to William.

The world keeps spinning, with or without me.

By the time I got home, exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. I pushed open the door, then stopped cold.

Ava. Again.

She stepped out of the master bedroom, drowning in one of William's shirts, her bare legs peeking out from underneath. She didn't even have the decency to look surprised.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Victoria," she said, casually tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "After the clinic, it was late, and my parents are out of town. William was just being considerate, he didn't want me staying home alone while I'm injured."

Before I could respond, the bathroom door swung open.

William stepped out, a towel draped around his neck, his damp hair tousled from a shower. His eyes met mine, and for a second, something flickered across his face, resignation. Like he was bracing for a fight.

"She's coming to work with me today," he said, voice even. "She didn't have anything to wear, so I lent her one of my shirts, "

"It's fine," I cut in, my tone neutral.

Both of them froze.

William blinked, caught off guard.

"She slept in the guest room," he rushed to clarify. "Don't read too much into it."

I met his gaze, steady. "I'm not overthinking anything. You two grew up together. She's always been like a sister to you. You even said yourself that the guest room is basically hers, that she doesn't need my permission to visit. I remember."

William let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost relieved. "I'm glad you see it that way. I really want you and Ava to get along."

The doorbell rang before I could answer.

A courier. Right on time.

William's gaze flicked to the neatly packed boxes stacked in the living room. His expression shifted, darkening, sharpening, as he crossed the room, stopping in front of them. His fingers traced the edges of the tape, as if touching them could somehow undo what was happening.

"Victoria," he said, his voice low. "What is this?"

I didn't answer.

His hand reached into one of the boxes and pulled out something small. A music box. Inside, a delicate figurine of a bride spun beneath a glass dome.

His grip tightened. His jaw clenched.

"You're getting rid of this too?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

I stared at the music box, the memories rushing back like a flood.

A time when we had nothing. When he couldn't afford a ring or a grand gesture, so he gave me that little box instead.

"One day, I'll make you my bride."

I had believed him.

But love doesn't survive in clutter. It suffocates when too many people take up space in something meant for two.

And I was done suffocating.