He Waited for Me at the Border, I Already Left the Country Chapter 10

He Waited for Me at the Border, I Already Left the Country Chapter 10

I told my mother about the verdict.

The soup ladle in her hand paused for a moment, then she continued stirring the pot.

She said nothing, but I saw the corner of her mouth move.

Relief.

“Go wash up. Dinner’s ready.”

We had a quiet dinner, chatting now and then about nothing important.

Then one day, I received a text.

It came from an unknown number, but I knew at once it was him.

Adrian:[Elena, I know you’re in Port Avery. I want to see you.]

I did not reply.

He changed numbers and texted again.

I blocked him.

One after another, I blocked more than a dozen numbers. It felt like playing whack-a-mole.

Then came the flowers.

Massive, anonymous arrangements started piling up at my office reception desk, all with the same three-word card: [I’m sorry.]

I gave the flowers to my coworkers and threw the cards in the trash.

He probably thought I would still soften.

But he did not know that I had changed in Port Avery.

I ran in the mornings and took painting classes at night.

I took good care of myself.

We crossed paths again on a dreary Tuesday in October.

I was walking back from the office under a black umbrella.

He stood in the rain without one, his hair and shoulders completely soaked.

The sharp, military posture was entirely gone.

His cheeks were gaunt, his jaw thick with unkempt stubble.

When he saw me, his eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed again.

“Elena.”

I stopped a few steps away. “What exactly do you want?”

“I had to ask around. Your old coworkers, mutual friends… that’s how I got your address,” he said,

his voice thick with regret.

“I know I have no right to see you, but I still wanted to say a few things.”

“I’m listening.”

He lowered his head, as if every word took all his strength.

“I’m sorry. For everything. I was an absolute prick to you. I just needed you to know that the second

you walked out, reality hit me.”

“The fridge was empty. I couldn’t find my clothes when the season changed. Every morning, I wake

up reaching for you, calling your name before I remember you’re gone.

I tightened my grip on the umbrella handle. “Are you done?”

His lips moved.

“You just listed the things I did for eight years. Not once did you ever ask me if I was tired.”

“When I was there, you thought all of it was my duty. You came looking for me not because you

loved me, but because you weren’t used to living without me.”

“You were used to me taking care of you. You were used to saying wait. But I was done waiting.”

He opened his mouth but made no sound.

Rainwater ran down his hollow cheeks, making him look smaller than he ever had.

He probably thought I would soften.

That I would say, Forget it.

But there was only silence between us.

After a long while, his voice was so hoarse I could barely hear it. “Is there really… no chance at all?”

I did not answer.

I walked past him.

“Do you hate me?”

“Not anymore. Hating someone is too exhausting.”

After that, he never came again.

Much later, I heard he had gone back to his hometown, found an ordinary job, and lived a rather

miserable life.

I was like a boat that had finally reached shore.

No longer drifting.

No longer waiting.

Every tomorrow after that was no longer another “wait.”

It was me, becoming my own safe harbor.