A week had passed since Vanessa's last failed attempt to reach Mark. A week of voicemail tones, ringing into silence, of the rude, shouting woman cutting her off abruptly. At first, she had been consumed by panic, obsessive checking, compulsive dialing, hoping, pleading, praying.
But the days had mellowed into a strange routine. She had regained some semblance of strength: she could walk without grimacing, manage the small chores around her apartment, even prepare a meal without needing her sister to hover. Helen had been a constant presence, a quiet anchor in the chaos of her mind, helping her resume life as if she hadn't just been through a near-fatal accident.
Yet, despite the apparent normalcy, Vanessa's mind was a stormy ocean. Every small success, every step forward, was accompanied by a whisper of regret. If only… if only I hadn't pushed him away. If only I hadn't let him walk out of the hospital that day. But it wasn't my fault, he broke my heart.
It was one of those evenings that settled in softly, when the world inside felt still and waiting that Vanessa made her decision. She had tried patience. She had tried distance. She had tried to convince herself that moving forward without him was the right thing. Deep down, the pain had grown too loud to ignore.
She was going to see him.
Not to negotiate, not to plead. Not even to reconcile. She would go knowing it might be the worst possible outcome: seeing him with someone else, seeing the life she could no longer claim. She would go prepared for heartbreak, humiliation, even yet, another betrayal. She would go… and face the truth.
By the time she arrived at the quiet street where his apartment sat, the sun had dipped low, turning the sky a cold lavender. Each step she took felt sharper than the last. Her hands gripped her bag so tightly it was like holding onto herself, trying not to let the emotions spill over.
The building looked as it always did, familiar and yet alien. The door to his apartment was locked. The veranda looked pale and empty, the railings stark against the dusky sky. A shiver ran down her spine this was not how she had imagined confronting him.
"Mark?" she called, her voice trembling, louder than intended. "Mark, are you here?"
No answer. Only the echo of her own voice, bouncing off the walls of the building.
She pressed her face to the glass window, peering inside. The apartment looked dark, abandoned. Her heart raced, and her stomach turned over with every thought. Every imagined scenario him with another woman, leaving her forever, moving on surged forward like a cruel storm.
"Mark!" she shouted again, fists pressed against the glass. Her voice cracked. "Please… I just need to know!"
A shadow shifted behind her. She jumped slightly, turning to see a neighbor approaching. A woman, middle-aged, carrying a grocery bag, brow raised in surprise.
"You alright, miss?" the neighbor asked. "What are you doing here shouting?"
Vanessa swallowed, trying to steady her voice. "I… I'm looking for the person living here. Mark… Mark is he…?"
The neighbor blinked, momentarily confused, then her expression shifted to one of quiet astonishment. "He… left town a few days ago. He's no longer here."
The words hit Vanessa like a physical blow. She froze, heart slamming against her ribcage. "What do you mean… no longer here? He… he didn't say anything?"
The woman shook her head. "Not a word. Nothing. Just packed and left. Everyone in the building is surprised. He didn't even leave a note."
Vanessa's knees threatened to buckle. She leaned against the railing of the veranda, trying to make sense of it. Left without a goodbye… kissed me knowing it would be the last time we'd meet… and now… he's gone.
Her mind raced. She tried to recall every detail, every moment: his hand on hers at the hospital, the way his lips had brushed her forehead in that last, fleeting kiss, the flowers he left behind, the calm, controlled voice, the apology left unfinished. All of it felt like a cruel puzzle, a memory sharpened into pain.
"I… do you know where he went?" she asked, voice breaking slightly.
The neighbor shook her head again. "No idea. And if you're looking for a number… everyone here tried. No one is connecting. He must've taken everything with him. I'm sorry."
Vanessa's head spun. She had no contact, no clues, no lead. Nothing. She gripped her bag harder, fingers trembling. Her mind screamed. I chased him away… I made him leave… did I… did I ruin everything?
The neighbor's gentle, curious gaze did nothing to soothe her. "I… I have to know," Vanessa whispered, almost to herself. She tried to think rationally, to consider the possibility that he had left for reasons unrelated to her, but her heart rejected the notion. He kissed me… knowing it was the last time… and he left… because of me.
Her vision blurred, She sat on the steps, knees drawn up. She didn't move, didn't breathe right, just sat with it.. What did I do wrong? Was it… was it my fault? But he cheated one me too!
Her mind circled relentlessly. Every detail of their last encounter replayed in sharp, agonizing clarity. The way he had looked at her controlled, calm, as if measuring every word. The way he had pulled back from her, leaving the flowers, leaving her. The final kiss… the last connection, fleeting and perfect, now rendered meaningless by his sudden departure.
Vanessa's chest heaved. She wanted to scream, to throw something, to claw at the world for its cruelty. Instead, she whispered curses under her breath, small, venomous sentences aimed at herself:
"I should have begged him to stay. I shouldn't have sent him away. I… I ruined it all. I ruined him, and I ruined us. But how? What did I do wrong, he cheated on me."
Her hands shook as her chest rose and fell too quickly. She had walked here prepared for the worst, or at least she thought she was.. But the reality the empty apartment, the locked door, the vacant veranda was worse than anything she could have imagined.
She tried calling him again, her fingers trembling as they tapped his number. The line rang once, twice… straight to voicemail. She tried a text, even a short message: Please. I need to know. I'm sorry. No reply. Nothing.
She dropped fully to the ground, every muscle giving in, the stillness around her pressing in. Her body shook, but her mind raced: He kissed me… knowing it was the last time we'd meet. And he left without a word. How could I have been so careless? How could I…
A memory cut through the haze — the hospital, her own words, sharp and final: "You need to leave, Mark." She had meant to protect herself, to guard against pain, to finally take control of her life. But now, standing in front of the empty apartment, the reality crushed her: protection had come at the cost of her love, at the cost of the last thread that tied them together.
She cursed herself again, harshly, bitterly. "I… I sent him away… and now… now I have nothing. Nothing!"
Her mind tumbled further, spinning into impossibility: Did he meet her there? Was he already gone because of me? Did he… move on? Did he find someone else while I was… The thought made her stomach twist painfully.
She looked around, desperate for a clue. The street was empty. Nothing moved. Nothing spoke. Nothing was there.
Vanessa buried her face in her hands, every muscle heavy, yet her thoughts kept running in circles. She had imagined confrontation, imagined closure. But what she faced was nothingness, a silence heavier than words.
And then, a new thought struck her, sharp and bitter: yes he cheated… if he moved on… was it because I sent him away? Or… was I just imagining it all? She pressed her palms to her eyes and breathed out slowly. Sitting there alone, she knew he wasn't coming back