He Said Wait Again And I Waited For The Plane To Paris Chapter 04

He Said Wait Again And I Waited For The Plane To Paris Chapter 04

I stared at the words on the screen and didn’t reply.

A little while later, he sent another message.

[Mad at me? Don’t be. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.]

Make it up to me.

Again, always that same excuse.

I switched my phone to silent and tossed it onto the sofa, then went into the kitchen and made myself a bowl of plain pasta.

This would be my last meal before leaving the country.

I had just drained the pasta when the lock clicked at the front door.

Adrian pushed the door open, looking rushed.

When he saw me standing in the kitchen with the bowl in my hands, he paused.

I set the pasta on the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital with Vivian?”

Adrian walked over and poured himself a glass of water.

“Vivian said she wanted the crab cakes from that place on the west side. I came back to get my car keys, and I’ll pick some up for her on the way.”

The west side.

That was where he had once ridden through pouring rain to buy cinnamon rolls for me.

Now, he was crossing half the city for Vivian’s crab cakes.

“Evelyn, are you getting upset again?”

When I didn’t answer, Adrian frowned.

“I already told you Vivian got hurt. I can’t just leave her there, can I?”

“Can’t you try to understand my position for once?”

I twirled a little pasta around my fork and put it in my mouth.

It was bland. Tasteless.

“I’m not upset,” I said calmly.

“Go buy them. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Adrian looked at me suspiciously, as if my unusual calmness had caught him off guard.

But he was in a hurry, so he didn’t think too much about it.

“I’m leaving, then. I might not come back tonight. Vivian gets scared by herself, so I’ll probably stay at the hospital with her.”

“Go to bed early.”

He picked up his car keys and turned to leave.

When he reached the door, he suddenly stopped and glanced back at the now-empty shoe rack in the entryway.

“Where are your slippers?”

I swallowed the bite in my mouth without looking up.

“They were old, so I threw them out.”

Adrian didn’t ask anything else. He closed the door and left.

I slowly finished that bowl of plain pasta, washed the bowl, and placed it upside down on the drying rack.

Then I put on my backpack, pulled along my small black carry-on, and walked out of that apartment without looking back.

On the airport shuttle, I leaned against the window.

The city I had lived in for seven years slipped backward through the night.

My phone lit up.

It was a screenshot from Sophie.

Vivian’s social media post.

In the photo, there was a takeout box of steaming crab cakes.

Behind it were the white sheets of a hospital bed.

A broad, elegant hand held a fork, carefully cutting into one of the crab cakes.

On his wrist was a Patek Philippe watch.

I had saved for half a year to buy that watch for Adrian’s birthday last year.

The caption read: [My ankle hurts so much, but someone drove halfway across the city to buy my favorite crab cakes. Suddenly, getting hurt doesn’t feel so bad.]

Under it was a comment from Adrian.

[Eat slowly. No one’s going to steal them from you.]

Sophie’s messages came right after.

[Evie! Don’t tell me you spent your fifth anniversary at home alone tonight!]

[Adrian Whitmore is such a bastard. Does he even remember you’re his girlfriend?]

I looked at the string of furious emojis Sophie sent me.

My fingers tapped lightly on the screen.

[Sophie, I’m leaving.]

[For Paris.]

Sophie went silent for a long time.

Then a voice message popped up.

Sophie’s voice came through, thick with tears.

“Evie, good. Go. And never look back.”

I closed the app. At the terminal, I popped out my old SIM card, snapped it in two, and tossed it into the trash as the night wind rushed past.