A Silent Goodbye
I stood across the street from my old apartment, the flickering streetlight casting long shadows on the pavement. The air smelled of rain, damp and familiar. I pulled my coat tighter, my breath misting in the cold.
I shouldn't have come back.
But something had drawn me here. Like a ghost tied to its past, I had wandered through the city until my feet betrayed me, leading me to the place that had once been home—the place where everything fell apart.
Through the window on the second floor, warm light spilled through the curtains. Someone else lived there now. Someone else called it home. Did they ever sense the memories trapped within the walls? The laughter, the fights, the love that had faded away?
I closed my eyes, and the past came rushing back.
The sharp arguments. The weak apologies. The promises that never lasted.
And the final moment—my hand on the doorknob, his voice behind me, begging. "Celeste, don't do this."
But I had walked away. And I had promised never to return.
Yet here I was.
"Never again," I whispered, not just to the apartment, but to him. To the woman, I used to be. To the pain I had carried for too long.
A taxi pulled up to the curb, the driver glancing at me through the mirror.
"You getting in or not, lady?"
I turned for one last look.
That's when I saw him.
Across the street, half-hidden in the shadows stood Damien.
My heart clenched. He looked almost the same—troubled, reckless, the kind of man who had once pulled me in like a storm. He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, but his eyes—those same intense eyes—were locked on me.
I should have walked away. I should have gotten into the cab. But I didn't.
Instead, I stepped off the curb.
"Did you follow me?" My voice was steady, but my hands clenched inside my coat.
Damien exhaled slowly. "I thought I'd never see you again."
"That was the plan."
A bitter smile touched his lips. "Plans change."
I shook my head. "Not this one."
His gaze flickered to the apartment, then back to me. "Do you miss it?"
Did I?
I missed what could have been. But that didn't mean it was good for me.
"I moved on," I said, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat.
He stepped closer. He still smelled the same—cigarettes and rain, a scent I had once known so well.
"Have you?"
The way he said it made me defensive.
"Yes," I bit out. "And so should you."
He let out a low chuckle. "If only it were that easy."
A cold wind cut through the street, making me shiver—not from the weather, but from him.
"What do you want, Damien?"
His jaw tightened. "I wanted to see you. Just once. To know if you were okay."
I swallowed hard. "And now that you have?"
He hesitated. "Now, I wish I hadn't."
The words stung.
Damien took a step back, fading into the shadows. "Goodbye, Celeste."
I should have said something. Anything. But the words wouldn't come.
The taxi honked, breaking the moment. Without looking back, I got in.
As the car pulled away, I leaned my forehead against the window, my reflection staring back at me.
Regret? Relief? Something in between?
It didn't matter. I had made my choice.
But as the city lights blurred past, a heaviness settled in my chest.
Because Damien hadn't chased me this time.
And for some reason, that hurt more than anything.
Just as I closed my eyes, my phone buzzed. A message.
From an unknown number.
You might have left, Celeste. But you were never really gone.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding.
Damien wouldn't have sent this.
Which meant someone else was watching.
And they wanted me to know it.