He Posted Ninety-Nine Sorries And I Posted My Goodbye Chapter 05

He Posted Ninety-Nine Sorries And I Posted My Goodbye Chapter 05

The private room went silent.

Ethan blinked twice. “Sophie. Are you serious?”

“I’m not joking.”

He set down his glass. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What difference does it make? You said someone else could’ve filled my spot. Go find them.”

His smile died. His lips parted and closed. “I was just angry—”

“Doesn’t matter.” I stood. “It’s over.”

He moved around the table toward me, eyes burning.

My mom got to her feet, stepped in front of me, and grabbed my hand. “Sophie. We’re leaving.”

“Mrs. Miller—”

She didn’t look back. She held tight and pulled me out fast.

…

On the train back to campus, the landscape blurred past.

My phone buzzed—Ethan.

[You should’ve at least talked to me about the baby.]

[We need to talk.]

One after another. Insistent.

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then typed: [There’s nothing to say.]

Sent it. Deleted the thread.

…

Back on campus, I started packing.

The study abroad paperwork was done. Visa, ticket, housing—everything ready.

All those years I stayed near him, I gave up so much.

I should’ve gone to a better grad school. But he said “Northwood’s not good enough for you?” and I stayed.

I should’ve applied for exchange earlier. But he said “Three years is too long” and I dropped it.

Every concession I made, I told myself I was getting closer to him.

Turns out I was just losing myself.

The door opened.

Ethan stood there, holding a paper bag.

He looked rough. Dark circles under his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He walked in and set the bag on my desk. Strawberry cupcake and a vanilla latte. My favorites.

“Your stomach’s a mess. You shouldn’t be drinking cold stuff.”

“Ethan. We broke up.”

“That’s not how this works.”

He stood there, hands in his pockets, voice rough.

“Sophie. Can you not do this?”

“Do what?”

“Just—leave. Cut everything off. After five years, you’re just—”

“Just what? Cold?”

I met his eyes. “Ethan, who’s really the cold one here?”

“Remember last winter? I had a hundred and four fever. I called you, and you said you were at an art show with Lily and told me to go to the ER myself.”

His lips moved, no sound.

“I was shaking so hard I could barely hold my own IV. No one even to get me water.”

I laughed, just once. “You know what I was thinking then? What am I even doing this for?”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You already said that.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.” I looked at him. “But I don’t need it anymore.”

The air went quiet for a long time.

“I’m going abroad.”

His pupils shrank.

“So you’re just leaving now? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?” I shot back. “Ethan. From now on, we don’t owe each other updates.”