"That's my home."
Evelyn's fingers shook as she signed the words quickly. Her emotions finally began to fracture under the weight of everything.
Adrian didn't understand sign language.
How ironic. They were just a breath away from each other, yet it felt like miles of silence lay between them.
She fell silent, struggling to say all the things she wanted. Her pain had no audience, no outlet. It sat heavy in her chest like a stone, dragging her deeper into herself.
In the last five years, Evelyn learned how to swallow blood without grimacing. She learned to cry silently. She learned to survive in a world that never stopped hurting.
Tears fell quietly onto her shaking hands as she scribbled on the paper again: "I just want to go home… to grab some things."
Adrian opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say more. But when he saw the tears on her cheeks, he paused, swallowed hard, and nodded.
"…Alright."
The drive was long and silent.
Evelyn stared blankly out the window, watching the city blur by. Lights faded like ghosts, voices muffled as if they came from a world she no longer belonged to.
Once, she believed Adrian's passenger seat was hers and hers alone. But now?
Now it was decorated with cartoon stickers, and a pink plushie bobbed on the dashboard. A small figurine—a ballerina in a tutu—sat beside the gearshift. Someone else had taken her place.
The same man who used to whisper forever to her under starlit skies, the one who once climbed a mountain at dawn to hang a love lock with her name on it, had moved on.
She had vanished for five years.
And he had replaced her.
Compared to the endless deserts of the Middle East, the luxury of Havenport's skyline felt surreal, almost cruel in its normalcy. Neon signs flickered as if they were laughing at her. Skyscrapers glinted like they belonged to a timeline she had missed.
Five years. That's all it took.
How had the world forgotten her so easily?
She picked up the pen again, her hands unsteady.
"Do my parents… not want me either?"
Her breath caught as she passed the note to Adrian.
Six people had been taken on that mission. One senior doctor was already retired—his children had flown in immediately to take him home. Her colleague, Maya, had been in a failing marriage, often fighting with her husband. But when she landed back in the country, he was already at the airport waiting with flowers and tears.
Everyone had someone.
Except her.
She had called every number she could remember, but all the calls went unanswered. Disconnected. Out of service.
Adrian hadn't come. She told herself he must have been overwhelmed at the hospital.
Her parents hadn't shown up. She convinced herself maybe they were too old, maybe they hadn't seen the news.
But the truth was much colder.
"Eve… can we talk about your parents tomorrow?" Adrian asked nervously as he pulled into an underground parking space. His knuckles were white around the wheel.
Evelyn's heart raced.
No. She shook her head fiercely. She needed to know. She needed something to hold onto.
Adrian avoided her gaze. "Let's go upstairs first. My… my wife made dinner."
The words struck like a blade to the chest.
He got out of the car and quickly moved to open her door. Old habits. He still shielded her head with his hand as she got out, afraid she might bump it. He had always done that. It used to make her feel cherished.
Now?
It made her feel empty.
Love doesn't just fade.
It transfers.
"She… you know her," Adrian said softly as they entered the building. "It's Dr. Liu's daughter—Renee Liu. You remember her?"
Evelyn's nails dug into her palms.
Renee Liu.
She is a junior in medical school.
The girl who had openly flirted with Adrian, even knowing he and Evelyn were together. The one who once stood in the middle of the student union and declared, "I don't care if he has a girlfriend. He's not married yet. One day, he'll be mine."
Evelyn hadn't taken her seriously then. She had believed in Adrian. Believed in their love.
And now?
Now, Renee was living in their home.
Sleeping in their bed.
The elevator dinged, and neither of them moved. Floor 19. The hallway outside was bathed in soft light.
They had chosen this unit together. High up. River view. Evelyn loved how the morning sun hit the glass windows perfectly. The price was steep—more than other units—but she had asked her parents for an extra $30,000 to cover the difference.
It was supposed to be their forever home.
Now it was just hers, in memory only.
Adrian entered the code.
Beep.
The lock clicked open.
Evelyn stood there, stunned.
He hadn't changed the code.
It was still her birthday.
Was that sentiment?
Or just laziness?
"Daddy!"
A small voice broke her thoughts.
A little girl raced out from the living room, charging into Adrian's arms with a squeal. She had curly dark hair, wide brown eyes, and a smile that could melt stone.
Adrian stiffened. His eyes shot to the hallway.
"Renee!" he hissed. "I told you to leave her with your parents tonight—"
Renee Liu stepped into view, her expression unreadable. Her gaze flicked from Adrian to Evelyn, then to the child.
Evelyn wasn't looking at Renee.
Her entire world had narrowed to the little girl.
Adrian said he remarried two years ago.
But this child—
She wasn't two.
She wasn't even three.
She looked four, maybe five.
Her stomach dropped. Her vision blurred.
She slowly raised her eyes to Adrian's face.
They no longer held sorrow or longing.
They demanded the truth.