The Suitcase They Threw Out, The Ticket I Bought To Leave Chapter 09

The Suitcase They Threw Out, The Ticket I Bought To Leave Chapter 09

The air turned thick and still.

Beneath my stare, Hunter’s eyes slowly reddened.

After a long silence, I spoke first. “What a coincidence. How have

you been?”

“Okay…” He stared at me, his eyes swirling with unreadable emotions. “Wally, why didn’t you go to Duke? I searched everywhere for you. Why did you leave me behind? You ignore texts, you blocked my calls. What did I do wrong?”

I didn’t know what to say.

There had been no big fight when things fell apart. I thought we both understood. We were never

officially a couple. He’d gravitated toward someone else, and I had no right to blame him.

I felt confused. “Aren’t you with Nadia now?”

“No!” He grew agitated, stepping toward me, regret and relief mixing across his face. “I’ve always liked you. Did you run away because you were jealous?”

I stepped backward, baffled by his words. So much sat unsaid. About how Hunter and Nadia drifted

into that fuzzy gray area. About how Hunter had unconsciously favored Nadia all along.

But I could not bring myself to spell it out. There was no point.

Call me a coward. Call me bitter. When people hurt me, I pulled far away.

“Hunter, it isn’t that.” For the first time, I met his gaze straight-on, completely sincere. “I left for

myself. For my dreams.”

I watched his expression crack, and my tone stayed cool. “Between romance and a better future, I picked my future. Think of me as a coward if you want. I choose myself. Even if you’d never fallen for Nadia, even if you’d only ever loved me–I would still choose me.”

My meaning was crystal clear.

The light faded slowly out of Hunter’s eyes. He forced a pained, wobbly smile. “Wally, I get it. You hate Nadia, even if you won’t admit it. But she confessed to me, and I turned her down.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

The once-privileged golden boy had finally humbled himself for me. Yet inside, I felt nothing. I

gave a half-hearted, indifferent nod.

Instead of going home, Hunter stayed nearby while I worked my off-campus job.

Christmas drew close. During a slow shift at the coffee shop, I was fighting drowsiness when the

front door swung open.

I put on my practiced customer-service smile, “Welcome-”

My voice died in my throat.

Mom, Dad, and Nadia stood in the doorway.

I dropped the smile. “What are you doing here?”

Dad spoke with uncharacteristic patience. “Wally, we came to bring you home for Christmas.”

Mom’s usual hard scowl was gone, replaced by a look of soft, guilty sorrow. “Working these shifts must be exhausting. Come home with me.”

Nadia stepped forward, hesitant. “Wally, I was immature before. We’re family. Don’t stay out here

alone.”

Their odd behavior left me utterly confused.

Dad’s eyes glistened. “Wally, when I saw your room completely empty, I finally realized how much we failed you. We do love you. You’re our daughter, no less than Nadia.”

He pulled out a stack of photo albums filled with childhood snapshots of Nadia and me. “Once you were gone, I understood how much I’d hurt you. After you blocked us, your mother and I lay awake

night after night.”

“That’s true!” Mom reached for me, trying to pull me into an embrace. “Wally, I miss you. I know I

was wrong.”

I stepped back. My phone buzzed with a stream of messages from Hunter.

[Wally, your parents do love you. They were just too proud and overlooked you.]

Screen after screen of text followed.

I realized then. Hunter was behind this whole intervention. Left to their own pride, my parents

would never have humbled themselves like this.

They genuinely believed that providing food and shelter was enough. To them, favoring one daughter over the other was simply human nature.

“I’m still on the clock. I don’t have time for catching up.” My smile stayed polite, betraying no resentment. “You should head back. If I have free time, I might stop by.”

Their faces paled.

I watched them trudge away, defeated. Not a single ripple of emotion stirred within me.

Love that arrives too late is not real love. Old wounds never truly heal.

From now on, I would love myself fiercely.

(THE END)