10 years of nothing—now i'm gone นิยาย & เรื่องราว

And now, she is coming back? "What?" It was all I could manage. “She’s returning," he said simply. Then, before I could demand answers, the line went dead. I sat there, gripping the phone like it was the only thing holding me upright. My pulse roared in my ears. Ten years. Ten years of nothing. No calls, no letters, no whispers of where she’d gone. Just my mother’s quiet sadness of how she hated her, our father’s stiff silence, and the unspoken rule that we didn’t talk about her.

The message ends everything. I stare at my phone. The screen does not change. The words stay where they are. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. Ten years. Ten years of choosing him. Ten years of waiting. Ten years of believing love was enough. My fingers shake. I read it again. Then again. As if the meaning will soften. As if the words will apologize. They don’t. “This isn’t funny,” I whisper, though I know no one is joking.

I say as a thought flashes in my head like a reality. "Non posso più aspettare, ho passato dieci anni solo per assicurarmi che ciò accadesse, niente mi rovinerà questo momento. [I can not wait any longer, I’ve spent ten years just to make sure this happens, nothing will ruin this moment for me.]"

Just thinking of that makes me feel warm inside again. Who would’ve have thought huh? After ten long years, I get to finally see you again. Or rather, finally get to say goodbye to you where I wasn’t able to do that time. Ten years without you. Ten years still blaming myself over what had happened. Ten years of missing you.

It was such an irony that the one who indirectly caused my parents' deaths was now celebrating their love story. I saw a message from Bobby. He'd sent a private text: [Bella, Audrey and I have arrived in Cranburn. It's just as beautiful as the books say. It's a shame you didn't come.] But I was never part of his life to begin with. So what was there to regret? The next couple of weeks were marked by fierce fighting. Wounded people were everywhere. Several of my coworkers were bedridden with the spreading epidemic.

“I spent ten years loving you. That’s enough.” Then I turned around and walked away. This time, nobody stopped me.

And for the first time in ten years, I believed it. THE END

For nine years, whenever I was angry, a proper apology and the right gifts were always enough. This time, though, I had gone so far as to print a severance agreement. Ordinary gifts would never be enough. After he landed, Kael went straight to a tattoo studio. From his wallet, he pulled out an old design I had sent him five years ago. He placed it in front of the artist and said, “I’m in a hurry.” “No anesthetic.”