Chapter 8

Every eye in the room was on the screen, then on me. The air was thick with a collective, awkward silence.

Kendal, oblivious, continued to talk, her voice echoing in the dead-quiet room. "I also got you all gifts from Japan! They' re on their way!"

The people around me started to talk again, their voices forced and unnaturally loud, trying to cover the gaping hole of the truth. My ears were ringing. I couldn' t hear a thing. All I could see were the pitying looks, the whispered conversations just out of earshot.

The video call ended. The screen went black.

I stood up slowly, my legs feeling unsteady. I walked to the front of the room.

"As some of you know, today is my last day," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I' ve resigned from InnovateX."

A murmur went through the crowd.

"Kendal and I have also separated," I continued, the words tasting like freedom. "As you can see, she' s found her own happiness. And I' m looking forward to finding mine."

I raised my glass of juice-I still couldn' t drink. "I wish you all the best."

The room erupted in a chorus of confused congratulations and goodbyes. The juice was sweet, but it burned my throat.

Hours later, after the party had died down, I called her.

"Are you coming back tonight?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion.

"No, still have some things to wrap up here," she said, her lie so easy, so practiced. "Miss me already?"

I crushed the unlit cigarette in my hand and dropped it in the trash. "Just wondering."

I had wanted to say goodbye properly, to give our ten years at least that much respect. But she was too busy with her new life to even grant me that.

I hung up and went to the HR office to sign my final papers.

As I was leaving, the new assistant called me, her voice frantic. "Brock, Ms. Spears wants her favorite dessert from that little bakery downtown. Can you possibly grab it for her? She said she' s at the new glamping site, the 'Serenity Woods' one."

I froze. Serenity Woods was twenty minutes from the office. She wasn' t in Japan. She had never even left the country.

A cold, grim resolve settled over me. I needed to see it with my own eyes.

I bought the cake and drove. The campsite was idyllic, with luxury tents and fairy lights strung between the trees.

And there she was. Sitting by a crackling fire with Jaime. A banner was strung up behind them: "Congratulations, K+J!" They were having their own private celebration for the deal. They were laughing, their heads close together, their faces lit by the warm glow of the fire.

I stood in the shadows, watching them. A couple bumped into me, jolting me back to reality.

I looked at her, at the woman who had been my entire world, and I smiled. A real smile, full of pain and release.

"Goodbye, Kendal," I whispered.

This goodbye wasn't for her. It was for me. For the boy who gave up his guitar, for the man who gave up his soul. It was for the ten years I could never get back.

You don't get that many decades in a lifetime. I wouldn't waste another minute.

As I walked away, a waiter delivered the cake to their table. Kendal saw the logo of the bakery, our bakery, and her face went pale. She knew. She frantically looked around, her eyes searching the darkness. But I was already gone.

I drove back to the InnovateX tower, my heart a hollow drum. I signed the last form, deleted my digital footprint, and erased myself from the company I had helped build.

I stepped into the main elevator with my last box of belongings, the doors closing on my old life.

At the same moment, across the lobby, Kendal rushed in, her face a mask of panic. She stabbed the button for the executive elevator.

Our two elevators passed each other in the shaft, one going down, one going up.

And we never crossed paths again.