He Thought I Was Finally Learning I Was Already Leaving Novels & Stories

I knew I was leaving him, but the feeling was like I just lost everyting. I exhaled shakily as the doors slid shut.

he claimed. "I understand, Mr. Sadler," I responded softly. Andrew went silent for a moment on the other end of the call before he hung up. My knuckles whitened as I gripped my phone tightly. Night had befallen the city at this point. I was going to return to that house and retrieve my personal documents before leaving for good. This entire year of "treatment" had only taught me one thing—how to gracefully walk away and never look back.

Jealousy grew like a weed in his heart. On the day he was leaving, he knocked on my door. He couldn't stop himself from saying it. "You'll ditch him sooner or later." My younger self had only said softly, "Safe travels." Now, the Sicilian evening wind blows through the garden of chimes. With him, the chimes always ring clear, and my life is finally at peace.

He had been moving like that for hours—quiet and close, just being there. "You were thinking about something," he said. "The night I left," I said. "The rain and the bus. I keep thinking about how I told him we would be okay. Back then, I didn't actually know if it was true." "Was it true?" I looked at him. "Yes." "Then it's true now," he said. "You can't know that." "No," he said. "But you said it back then without knowing, and you were right. You are better at this than you think."

I’d learned the hard way that the moment you start letting people in, they find ways to leave. So I told myself it was nothing. Just words. Just a message. Just a heartbeat I didn’t have to listen to. Because he did. And that scared me a little.

"You're playing games..." This wasn't good. I didn't play my cards right. I really underestimated this man. His head slightly tilted. "Am I?" There was something in his tone. It was something soft, but there was sharp in it. "You remembered the path," he continued. "The exit." I pressed my lips into a thin line before I spoke. "So what if I did?" His gaze darkened. "That means," he said slowly, "you were already thinking of leaving long before you stepped outside."

“And this is only the beginning.” “I am leaving,” I said firmly. “I am done listening.” I turned away and walked out, closing the door hard behind me. His words remained in my mind heavily long after that.

“I’m not showing anything.” “You are.” “This is pointless.” “It’s not.” “It is.” “It’s the most honest thing happening right now.” Silence. Heavy. Unavoidable. Because no matter how much I denied it— Something was there. Something I didn’t want to name. Didn’t want to understand. Didn’t want to feel. “I’m leaving,” I said finally. This time— I didn’t wait. I walked past him. Out of the space. Out of the moment. Out of whatever this was becoming.

I am doing the only thing I know how to do. She thought: be well. Be all right. Be happy, eventually. She thought: it was real. Everything between us was real. I am not leaving because it was not real. I am leaving because real things can still be insufficient. And I have learned finally after all of this, that I am worth the sufficient version.

We had repeated the same pattern so many times that he had stopped believing there could ever be another ending. I had helped teach him that. Every time I accepted his version of peace, I taught him that he could take a little more from me and I would still stay. I wasn't doing it again. “My flight leaves in a few hours.” Nathan stared at me. “You're really going?” “Yes.” “And you're just leaving everything here?” “There isn't anything left here that I want.” His expression changed at that, but I didn't wait to see what he would say. I walked away.