I waited for Larry's reply—but none came.
Not a single word. No calls. No texts. Just silence.
"That's it," I whispered to myself, trying to believe that this was the closure I needed. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe silence was his way of agreeing—of letting go too.
Honestly, I preferred the silence to another heartfelt message. I couldn't bear to read words soaked in emotions I was trying so hard to kill. If he poured his heart out again, I might not be strong enough to walk away a second time.
But Ashley's words kept circling in my mind like a song on repeat:
"Depending on the cause of the separation…"
She had a point, didn't she? What did cause the end of Larry and Lara's engagement? Could I really make peace with this without knowing the whole truth? Or would that truth shatter me even more?
Despite the unanswered questions, I forced myself to move on. I had no other choice. I focused on my exams with the kind of determination that came from emotional exhaustion. I couldn't afford to fail—not academically and certainly not emotionally. My mother couldn't know, not even a whisper of what had almost happened between Larry and me. She'd be devastated.
So I buried myself in study sessions, notes, textbooks, and late-night coffee. I became the student everyone expected me to be. On the outside, I was calm. Focused. Balanced.
But inside, I was barely holding it together.
I tried not to think about Larry—tried not to wonder if he was okay or if he missed me too. But some nights, as I lay awake, I couldn't help but picture him sitting in his living room, Cue's favorite treat still untouched on the table. Or staring at his phone, waiting for me to call.
If he really did care for me as much as he claimed, then this must be hurting him too.
Maybe I should have asked more. Maybe I should have stayed to understand the truth instead of running away from it. But what if that truth made things worse? What if it painted Lara in a sympathetic light, and made me the villain?
No. I wasn't ready for that kind of guilt.
I had to be okay. I had to believe that someone else was out there for me—someone without this much baggage. Maybe someday, I'd find a different kind of love. One that didn't come with complications, ex-fiancées, and family secrets.
I just hoped that when that time came, my heart would still be whole enough to try again.
Larry's pov
I stared at my phone longer than I should have, her name still pinned at the top of my messages.
"Seen."
No reply. Not even the faintest sign she'd typed something and deleted it. Just silence. And I deserved it.
I ran a hand through my hair, already disheveled from another sleepless night. I thought telling her the truth would set something free between us. That maybe, just maybe, honesty could keep the bond we were starting to build from crumbling.
Instead, it shattered it.
The moment she walked out that night, Cue trailing behind her, my chest tightened in a way I hadn't felt in years. The kind of pain that doesn't just sit in your chest—it spreads to your limbs, makes your fingers numb, your heart heavy.
And yet, I didn't call. Not because I didn't want to. God knows I wanted to.
But what was left to say?
I already confessed everything. The truth—the engagement, Lara, how her mother had been the one who brought us together, thinking it was the perfect match. What I didn't say, what I couldn't say, was how I'd known it wasn't right from the start.
Lara was smart, beautiful, confident. But there was no spark. No laughter in quiet moments, no comfort in silence. Just expectations. From her, from her family, from mine. And I followed those expectations like a man lost on autopilot—until I couldn't anymore.
We ended things before it got too far. No wedding, no public drama. Just two people realizing the future they imagined was never really theirs.
But Uriel… she was different.
Maybe it was how she talked—soft but certain. Maybe it was the way she tilted her head when listening, like every word mattered. Or how she loved her dog like a person. Or how she looked at me like I wasn't someone stuck in the past, but someone who could have a future.
That's what scared me the most. Losing her felt like losing the one thing I didn't even know I needed until it was already gone.
She's young, I told myself. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe she'll forget me. Maybe she'll meet someone with no complicated past, no shared family tree. Someone her mother could smile at without the weight of broken history in her eyes.
But still, I found myself checking my phone. Hoping for even a single "hi."
Instead, I buried myself in work. Meetings, calls, projects. I tried to distract myself with structure. But nothing silenced the ache of what I'd lost.
And the worst part? I still didn't know if I should fight for her…
Or let her forget I ever existed.
---
Uriel had another thought—maybe it was time to give someone else a chance.
Someone her age.
Someone with a clean slate like hers.
A relationship where she wouldn't have to hide.
A love that didn't come with secrets, guilt, and emotional weight.
She knew she deserved that.
Maybe if she tried hard enough, Larry would slowly evaporate from her mind.
Maybe.
She wasn't sure if her heart was ready, but at least she could try.
Meanwhile, Larry wasn't new to breakups.
He'd had his share.
But this one—this felt different.
This time, it didn't just feel like the end of a relationship…
It felt like the crossing of a line that could never be uncrossed.
A boundary that should never have been tested.
And now, it would remain… unsealed.