My mom called every few days with updates. Julian kept coming by the house, trying to get to me through them.

Eventually they told him I was traveling. That finally stopped the surprise visits, the ones at all hours.

I’d listen to my mom talk, what was happening at home, what Julian was doing.

Hearing his name didn’t sting anymore. He was the past. All of him.

I’d muted his notifications weeks ago. I barely glanced at his messages.

I’d planned a month and booked everything in advance. When the time was up, I flew home.

Whenever I found something I liked on the road, a souvenir, a gift, I bought it and shipped it home.

My address. My name. No wrong deliveries. No excuses.

I even shipped my suitcase ahead. The trip home was the lightest I’d felt in years.

My parents were waiting at the airport, my mom holding flowers.

She smiled, looked me over, and handed them to me. “You’re thinner, but you look good. You had fun out there, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “So happy. Every single day. I’m fully recharged, ready to go back to being a corporate drone.”

That got both of them laughing. “Who says that about themselves?”

I turned, and there was Julian. Holding a bouquet of red roses.

The month had hollowed him out. He looked gaunt, standing there with his flowers, impossible to miss in the crowd.

My parents’ smiles disappeared.

I walked up to him. “Please tell me you’re not here to pick me up.”

His voice came out rough. “I am. Claire, I’m sorry. Can you give me a few minutes? Let me talk to you. Please.”

I glanced at the roses. “I’ve never liked red roses, Julian. My favorites are sunflowers and baby’s breath.”

“I didn’t know…” He stopped mid-sentence.

Because he did know. I’d told him years ago, back when we were dating.

He fumbled for an excuse. “But the Valentine’s Day roses… you never said anything, so I figured you liked them too…”

Because I never wanted to be the one who ruined a nice gesture. When someone you love remembers to bring you flowers, you don’t critique the arrangement. I was just happy he thought of me.

Back then, the kind didn’t matter.

Now I knew better.

Not that it mattered.

“I never got those roses anyway. You sent them to Chloe. Every time.”

The color had drained from his face. “I’m sorry. I know I was wrong. Please. Just take these. I went to the shop myself to get them for you.”

“Julian, I’ve made up my mind. I’m not taking your flowers.”

His grip tightened on the bouquet. “No. We’re not doing this. We are not getting divorced.”

I glanced back at my parents, then turned to Julian.

“Mom, Dad, go grab a coffee. I need to talk to him.”

“This won’t take long.”

Something flickered in Julian’s eyes when I said I’d talk to him. It died when I said it wouldn’t take long.

I led the way into an empty café and sat down across from him.

He started immediately. “Claire, I get it now. Everything. It was all my fault. And I’ve changed. I swear I have.”

He pulled out his phone. “Look. I deleted Chloe’s address. Every app, every platform, her number, everything. Gone.”

“I’ll never contact her again. Nothing will ever go to the wrong address.”

I looked at his screen. The only addresses left were the apartment we’d shared for three years.

Below it, my office. My parents’ place.

Such a simple thing. Three years, and he only did it when he realized I was actually leaving.

I gave him a small smile. “I quit that job.”

He grabbed his phone back and deleted the office address on the spot.

“Not a single package will ever go to the wrong place again. Claire, please. Just one more chance.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it is my problem anymore.”

He kept going, desperate now.

“I tracked down every single package from the last three years. Every single one. I bought replacements for all of them and sent them to the apartment. You can see for yourself.”

“I was an asshole. I know that.”

“I was wrong.”

“But I never wanted to lose you. Claire, please. Give me one more chance. Don’t do this.”

His eyes were red. I shook my head.

“It’s too late.”

“Julian, I waited three years for you.”

Every bit of color left his face.

My voice was quiet. “On Thanksgiving, all you had to do was go get them. I didn’t even care that Chloe had already eaten the pies. If you’d just gone, I would’ve forgiven everything.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Just sign the papers, Julian.”

“If you don’t, I’ll take it to court.”

I stood up and walked out.

I could feel his eyes on my back all the way to the escalator. I stepped on and rode it down, and he disappeared from view.

I didn’t look back.

Julian signed the papers.

He never added Chloe back. From what I heard, he cut her off completely.

When the waiting period was over, I went to the courthouse to finalize everything.

Julian was there. He apologized one last time, quietly, and like he meant it.

“I’m sorry, Claire. I failed you in every way that mattered.”

“I know I don’t get to ask for anything anymore.”

“I hope you find everything you deserve.”

I wished him well. I meant it.

As I turned to leave, I thought I caught something shining at the corner of his eye.

But I didn’t look back.

The next chapter was mine. And I was ready to run toward it.

(The End)