The Group Chat Without Me That Decided Everything Chapter 04

The Group Chat Without Me That Decided Everything Chapter 04

That evening, I ran into them at the hotel front desk when I got back.

All four carried armloads of shopping bags, and Anna now had a silk scarf around her neck.

Lucas blinked when I walked in, perfectly fine.

“Where were you all afternoon?”

“Looking around.”

I pressed the elevator button.

Ethan came over and blocked the doors.

“Claire Bennett, you’re not even going to pretend anymore?”

“Think whatever you want.”

I looked up at him, my gaze steady.

“Move. I want to go upstairs and rest.”

My indifference stung him. His face twisted with anger.

He abruptly stepped aside.

“Fine. Let’s see how long you keep this up.”

He turned to Nathan and the others.

“If she doesn’t want to be with us, she can handle her own flight home. Nathan, don’t bother booking her a ticket for tomorrow night.”

Lucas piled on.

“Exactly. Our flight’s at eight tomorrow night. If you can’t book your own ticket, you can make that island your new home.”

Anna tugged Ethan’s sleeve.

“Ethan, don’t be like that. What if Claire can’t get a ticket on her own?”

“She’s so capable, right? Let her figure it out.”

The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off their deliberately raised voices.

I leaned against the elevator wall, took out my phone, and checked.

There wasn’t a single flight home at eight the next night.

They’d probably booked for the morning after that. They were telling me tomorrow night so I’d panic when I couldn’t find a ticket, then beg them for help.

I opened the booking app and bought a seat on a nonstop flight at two the next afternoon without hesitating.

I wasn’t just traveling without them. I was leaving early.

The team in Paris needed to get things moving.

This vacation really was over.

On the last day of my trip, I got up early.

I packed everything into my suitcase, checked that nothing was missing, then sat by the interior window and emailed HR in Paris.

I confirmed that I’d complete my onboarding online the following Monday and fly to the headquarters in France two weeks later.

With that done, I took my suitcase downstairs to check out.

As I passed through the lobby, the four of them were eating breakfast in the buffet restaurant.

A plate of pretty pastries sat in front of Anna. Ethan was peeling shrimp for her.

Nathan and Lucas sat opposite them, laughing and chatting.

They looked so comfortable together, as if they were the real family.

I didn’t go over to say hello. I went straight to the desk and returned my key card.

A message arrived in the group chat as I got into a cab to the airport.

It was from Ethan.

[Lobby at six tonight. We’re heading to the airport. Don’t expect us to wait for you.]

I looked at the screen and tapped “Leave Chat.”

[You left “The Five of Us.”]

The notification chimed sharply inside the cab.

Then I blocked Ethan, Nathan, Lucas, and Anna on Instagram.

Their phone numbers, their other social accounts, every way they had of reaching me. I cut them all off.

When I was done, I leaned back and let out a long breath.

Four hours later, the plane landed.

I took a cab to the home Ethan and I had shared for three years.

When I opened the door, the bunny slippers Anna had left on her last visit sat in the entryway.

The wool blanket she used when she got cold lay across the living room couch.

On the coffee table were her favorite snacks and the self-heating eye masks Ethan had bought her.

Traces of her were everywhere in that house.

There was painfully little that belonged to me.

I went into the bedroom and took out a large suitcase.

I had only a few outfits for the season and two bottles of skin care products.

The jewelry box I’d once treasured held the first necklace Ethan had given me.

I took it out and looked at it. The silver chain was beginning to tarnish.

Like our relationship, it had tarnished long ago. I’d just never been able to bring myself to throw it away.

I dropped the necklace into the trash.

I took the two documents I’d printed in advance from a drawer in the study.

One was a “Notice of Separation.” The other was a “Notice of Withdrawal from the Family Trust.”

The year before, I’d joined the family trust Nathan managed to make buying a home easier.

Now a friend had helped me finish all the paperwork to withdraw.

I set the two documents neatly on the dining table.

On top, I placed the house key and the access card that had once meant I belonged to the family.

At the door, suitcase in hand, I looked back at the house.

Three years of my life. Ten years of love.

In the end, it had all been a joke.

The lock clicked shut.

I stepped into the elevator without looking back.

No tears. No hysterics.

After enough disappointment, you left without a sound.