They Buried A Promise For Ten Years, They Broke It In Ten Minutes Chapter 02
“Ava, were things really that bad last night?”
Ethan called the next morning, his voice relaxed, like he was talking about nothing important.
I sat by the bay window in my rented apartment, laptop on my knees, an email open on the screen.
The email was from three days ago—a formal offer from a design firm in London.
“Say something,” he said.
“Nothing was bad,” I said.
“Good.” He sounded relieved. “By the way, Lily says she feels bad and wants to take us out to dinner. Are you free tonight?”
I stared at the start date in the email—October 15. Twelve days away.
“Not tonight. I’m working late.”
“What about the weekend?”
“We’ll see.”
He paused, then said, “Ava, did you get your period last night? You seemed a little off.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Short and bitter.
“Ethan, I was upset because you guys drank all my wine. Not because of my period.”
“Fine, fine. My fault. I’ll make you a new batch next time, okay?”
His tone was like he was calming a child, so sure of himself.
Because in his mind, Ava always got over it.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m hanging up.”
I ended the call and read the email again.
London.
Over five thousand miles away.
A twelve-hour flight.
Far enough.
In the afternoon, I was in a meeting when my phone vibrated several times.
After the meeting, I checked the group chat. Lily had sent a voice message.
I played it.
Lily: [Voice message: Ava, I brought Ethan some chicken soup at lunch. He said you’ve been working so much you haven’t had time to cook, so I thought I’d bring you some too. But Ethan said you might be busy, so I didn’t want to bother you. Next time I’ll bring it to you directly.]
Owen replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
Ethan said, “Lily’s cooking gets better every day.”
I checked the time. 12:40 p.m.
Ethan hadn’t called me at lunch. He hadn’t asked if I’d eaten.
But Lily brought him soup, and he complimented her.
I used to bring him lunch too.
Every day at noon, I’d ride my bike fifteen minutes from my office to his building. Rain or shine, for two years.
Then he said I didn’t need to anymore. He’d eat at the cafeteria.
So I stopped.
Turns out it wasn’t about the cafeteria. It was about having someone else bring it.
My phone buzzed again. A private message from Owen.
Owen: [Ava, you really went too far last night. Lily told me she couldn’t sleep because she was afraid you hate her. Can you just say something to her?]
I typed a reply, then deleted it.
Ava: [Okay.]
Owen: [Don’t just brush me off. Lily really cares about your opinion.]
I didn’t respond.
That night, I opened my closet and started packing.
London would be cold in October. I’d need a heavy coat.
At the back of the closet, I found a cloth bag.
Inside was a bracelet.
Owen had made it in high school. A red friendship bracelet with three star-shaped silver beads.
He’d made three identical ones—one for me, one for him, one for Ethan.
He said it was a symbol of the three of us.
I laid the bracelet on the table and stared at it for a long time.
Then I opened the drawer and put it inside.
My phone buzzed again.
Ethan: [How late are you working? Want me to come pick you up?]
Ava: [No need. Almost done.]
Ethan: [Let me know when you get home.]
Ava: [Okay.]
He still did this sometimes. Just when I was about to give up, he’d throw me a tiny bit of affection.
Just enough to make me think he still cared.
It used to work.
It didn’t anymore.
I closed the chat, opened the airline app, and searched for flights to London on October 12.
A 2 a.m. red-eye. Cheapest one.
I didn’t buy it.
Still twelve days left. I had to finish my handover, end my lease, get rid of the stuff I’d accumulated.
And decide whether to say goodbye.