Our Anniversary Ends with an End

Chapter 9

"Yohann, what makes you think that just because you've had a change of heart, I'd still be here waiting for you?"

My voice was calm, cold, completely steady.

His face turned ghost-white, fists trembling at his sides. "You… you really won't give me another chance?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Before I could respond, Zandria stormed out of the restaurant, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement. Her eyes were wide with panic for Yohann and blazing with fury at me.

"Yohann! What did she do to you?" she snapped, eyes darting between us like she was ready to throw hands.

Yohann pulled his arm away from her grip, surprising both of us. "Zandria, don't talk to her like that. Ysha didn't do anything wrong. This is all on me."

That shut her up, for half a second. Then her mask slipped, and her real face showed.

"What do you mean it's your fault? We didn't do anything wrong! She's the shameless one! If she hadn't taken advantage of the situation, we would've been together a long time ago!"

"Zandria!" Yohann barked. His voice cracked like a whip. "Apologize."

Tears pooled in her eyes, but she didn't back down. Instead, she glared at him like a child caught red-handed, refusing to admit fault.

Yohann sighed, clearly worn out, and turned to me. "I'm sorry, Ysha. Zandria's been spoiled since we were kids. She says things she doesn't mean. Please don't take it personally."

That was all I needed to hear. I laughed bitterly, not because it was funny, but because it was so tragically predictable.

"No wonder people say birds of a feather flock together," I said flatly. "You two really are made for each other."

And with that, I walked away and got into my brother's car. He hadn't said a word the entire time, just watched silently, letting me handle it, but I knew he was fuming.

Sure enough, the moment we got home, he launched into a full-blown lecture, dragging me through every poor decision I'd made with Yohann over the years. I nearly went deaf. Thankfully, Mom swooped in and shut him down before I lost my mind.

After that night, I threw myself into prepping for the civil service exam. Friends would text now and then, but I kept my replies short. I wasn't in the mood to catch up, I had a goal, and I was laser-focused.

But then… the irises started.

Every morning, a fresh bouquet of my favorite flowers showed up at my door with the same card: I'm sorry.

At first, I ignored them. But the mystery got under my skin, and eventually, I went to the building's security office to pull the surveillance footage. That's when I saw it, Yohann had been sending the flowers.

Disgusted, I tossed every single bouquet into the trash. I knew I had to vanish for good. So, the moment I passed the exam, I packed up and moved to a new city without telling anyone where I was going.

The day after I moved, my brother called.

"He showed up again," he muttered, clearly annoyed. "Luckily, Mom and Dad weren't home. You need to come deal with this."

I glanced at the employment paperwork on my desk and replied coolly, "Can't today. Just call the cops. Give him a few more failed visits, and he'll be too embarrassed to show up again."

And just like I said, after a couple more attempts, he finally stopped coming around. But then he started reaching out to my friends, desperately trying to find me. The joke was on him, I hadn't told anyone where I'd moved, or even that I passed the exam. He hit a wall.

Later, I found out he'd applied for a job transfer to the same city I'd relocated to. Maybe he thought I'd eventually bump into him.

I didn't think much of it. Zandria was clingy, there was no way she'd let him move alone. What I didn't expect was that he'd gone to her parents to convince them.

They spoiled her, sure, but they had limits. No way would they let her move so far away. So when Yohann transferred, he went alone.

Not long after, I got a text from an unknown number:

"This time, it's my turn to chase you."

I didn't need to guess who it was. I'd kept my old number for work, regretfully, and now it was biting me.

Without a second thought, I typed out my reply:

"Don't contact me again. Pretend I'm dead."

Then I blocked all messages from unknown numbers.

I was done. Really done.

People talk about second chances like they're some kind of cure-all. But for me, love is like glass, once it's shattered, you don't glue it back together. You sweep it up, throw it away, and move on.

No matter how much you try to fix it, those cracks will always be there. And I refused to keep bleeding just to hold onto something already broken.