<
This is for the best. At least I won’t soften my resolve now.
If I hadn’t accidentally overheard him talking about me like that behind my back today, if I hadn’t found his secret Instagram account,
I might have been kept in the dark my whole life, mistakenly thinking he had truly given up on the one that got away.
I’ve now seen through Arlo’s cultured facade to his filthy inner self, and learned that all those intimate moments of love were just an illusion.
Now there’s no reason left to continue this relationship.
At that moment, my boss called.
I took a deep breath, trying not to let anything show in my voice.
“Zinnia, there’s an opportunity to work at our Paris branch office. I wanted to ask if you’d be interested.”
“You’d start directly as a director. It’s quite a rare opportunity.”
My boss tried to persuade me.
Actually, this wasn’t the first time a promotion opportunity had landed on me.
D
Last time, because I wanted to settle down with Arlo, I righteously refused the chance to go to France, even though it had been a dream I once
cherished.
But now, there was no reason left worth giving up my dreams for.
“Thank you for this opportunity. I’d be happy to work in Paris.”
The determination to break up had never been so strong. My brain was urgently sending signals of self–preservation.
Even if my heart was being cut to pieces, I was willing to endure this pain.
After hanging up, I immediately booked a flight to Paris for a few days later.
After being discharged, I went straight home to pack all my belongings.
During this time, I didn’t run into Arlo.
He was probably still busy accompanying Sage.
The next day, sitting in the taxi to the airport, I saw Arlo’s secret Instagram account had updated last night:
“Meeting again, emotions beyond control.”
The photo showed him and Sage holding hands.
I calmly scrolled past, but my heart still ached dully.
Arlo suddenly texted me, probably having noticed the changes at home.
“You were discharged yesterday? Where are you?“,
I didn’t respond.
He called countless times, all of which I hung up on.
Until one minute before boarding the plane, an unknown number called.
I answered, hearing Arlo’s anxious voice:
“Zinnia Wilson, where did you go? When did you come home?”
Haughed silently calmly renlving
