Chapter 6: The one who stayed

The apartment was silent. The kind of silence that felt deliberate. Designed.

George sat alone in the dim light, elbows on his knees, hands limp, eyes fixed on nothing. The untouched glass of wine on the table had long since bled into a red stain on the wood. He hadn’t noticed.

Emily was gone.

No trace. No message. No goodbye.

And unlike the other times this one felt final.

The front door clicked open.

He didn’t move.

Luna stepped inside, brushing snow from her coat. She didn’t knock. She never did. She paused for only a second before setting her leather bag down with precision and heading straight to the liquor cabinet.

“You look like shit,” she said.

No sympathy. Just a fact.

George still didn’t speak. Luna poured herself a short glass of bourbon. No ice.

“You’ve confirmed she’s gone?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

George nodded once, slow. Like every movement cost something.

“She disabled the security feed. Burned her digital trail. No financial activity. No calls. Not even a signal ping.”

“She’s good at disappearing,” Luna said, sipping. “is too clean, more like she has had it in plan for a while now.”

His voice was hoarse when it finally came. “She planned this.”

“She did.”

George leaned forward, his face blank but eyes red-rimmed. “She didn’t even leave a note.”

“She didn’t need to.”

He looked up at her then really looked. “You knew.”

Luna didn’t deny it. She placed the glass down, carefully, without looking at him.

“She reached out two days before she vanished. My agency gave me that little bit of information,” she said. “Minimal details. A request for silence. Nothing more.”

“You helped her?” he asked, voice raw.

“I didn’t interfere,” Luna replied. “That’s not the same thing and is not my thing to do.”

George pressed a hand to his mouth, rubbing his face like he was trying to wake himself from a nightmare. But he didn’t cry. He didn’t yell. He just sank inward, slow, like the realization was dragging him under water.

“She wanted this,” he muttered. “She wanted to hurt me.”

“She wanted control,” Luna corrected. “You never gave her that. Not really.”

His jaw tightened. “I stayed.”

“Staying isn’t the same as being there.”

The words landed hard.

Luna didn’t soften.

“She told me not to involve you,” she continued. “Said it was important you feel powerless. Like she did.”

George closed his eyes. Behind his lids, the memory of Emily flickered her voice, sharp and soft all at once. Her eyes were full of things she never said.

“I thought… she’d come back.”

“She won’t,” Luna said. “Not unless she wants something or at least till the contract is over.”

Silence.

Then: “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

George didn’t ask again. He knew Luna wasn’t lying. She never lied. She didn’t care enough to.

He stood slowly, walking to the window, staring out at the frozen city.

“She’s with someone,” he said after a moment.

Luna didn’t respond.

“She planned every inch of this,” he continued, voice steadier now, like the numbness had finally taken hold. “Even the silence. Especially the silence.”

“She wants you to unravel,” Luna said. “And you are.”

George turned to her, hollow. “So what now?”

Luna finished her drink. Straightened her jacket. Picked up her bag.

“If you want to find her,” she said, heading for the door, “you’ll need to stop grieving and start thinking.”

She paused before stepping out.

“I’ll be in touch, and while you are at it, be properly dressed in a suit and bring a witness with you, tomorrow for the wedding” she said, flatly.

The door shut behind her.

George stood alone again, the cold from the window seeping into his bones.

Emily had left.

And now a wedding??.