The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 05

The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 05

Walking out of the apartment complex gates, the night wind hit my face, carrying the crisp coolness of early autumn.

Toby leaned against my leg, his small hand holding tight to the hem of my shirt, not making a sound. I knew he was tired—not just his body, but his heart too. A six-year-old child shouldn’t have to go through any of this.

I squatted down and lifted him into my arms. He wrapped his arms sweetly around my neck, buried his little face in my shoulder, and mumbled:

“Mommy, we’re not going back, are we?”

“No,” I kissed the top of his hair. “We’re never going back.”

He gave a soft “mm” and said nothing more.

Carrying him with one arm and dragging the suitcase with the other, I sat down on a bench by the roadside. The streetlights were dim, stretching our shadows long and thin.

I pulled out my phone and dialed that number again.

It rang twice and was answered. The steady voice of the middle-aged man came through, laced with concern and quiet understanding:

“Child. How is it?”

I took a deep breath. My voice was a little rough, but clearer than ever:

“Dad. I’ve made up my mind. I’m coming home.”

There was a two-second silence. Then the man’s voice changed, no longer careful and tentative, but warm with a father’s eagerness I hadn’t heard in years:

“Good. Good! Daddy’s been waiting for you to say that for far too long.”

My throat tightened, and I almost couldn’t hold back the tears.

“But—” His tone turned serious again. “There’s something I need to ask you first. All those orders I gave Ethan Carter’s company, all those contracts, I did it for you, to keep you comfortable. Now that you’ve decided to come home, do you want me to cancel all of them?”

I froze. So all these years, my father had been secretly helping me. All those business deals, those contracts, those orders Ethan thought he’d won with his own skill—they’d all been because his daughter had married him.

I closed my eyes. Ethan’s face flashed through my mind: the cold, distant look he gave me in the office when he called me “Assistant Carter,” the soft, tender smile he gave Chloe, the way he’d looked down at his phone on that Ferris wheel on his son’s birthday.

“No,” I said. “Dad, don’t cancel them yet.”

“Why?” My father’s voice was puzzled.

“Because—” I paused, my voice very soft. “I just want to live peacefully for a little while first. No drama, no fighting. Just me and Toby.”

“Dad, right now I just want to settle down. Can you send someone to pick me up?”

“Of course.” His voice turned sharp and efficient at once. “Where are you right now?”

I looked at the street sign and read him the address.

“Okay. I’ve got it. Someone will contact you the second they arrive. Child, stay safe.”

“Mm. Dad, thank you.”

“Silly child. What’s there to thank your daddy for?”

I hung up, held Toby tight in my arms, and stood up. The little boy had fallen asleep, his breathing even and steady, his small hand still holding tight to the collar of my shirt, like he was scared I’d leave him.

I kissed his forehead, dragged the suitcase, and walked toward the crosswalk.

My phone buzzed again. I pulled it out, a notification from my work email popping up. I opened it, found the resignation letter I’d written long ago in my drafts, and read it one last time.

【Dear Leadership,

For personal reasons, I, Clara Bennett, hereby resign from my position as Assistant at Nova Enterprises, effective immediately.

Thank you for the company’s training and care over the years.

Best regards,

Clara Bennett】

It was simple. Calm. No complaints, no bitterness, not even a single

extra word. Just like the years between Ethan Carter and me. In the end, it had all amounted to nothing more than this.

I hit send. A line popped up: [Email sent.]

I put my phone back in my pocket and didn’t look back once at the lit-up apartment building behind me.

Ethan Carter, goodbye. Goodbye forever.

The next morning, Ethan Carter arrived at Nova Enterprises right on time. He’d come earlier than usual. The receptionist hadn’t even arrived yet. The whole office building was as quiet as an empty city.

He walked into his office, slung his jacket over the back of his chair, and glanced around out of habit.

Empty.

Clara’s desk was spotless. The computer was off. The papers were gone. Even the mug she’d used every day for three years was nowhere to be seen.

Ethan frowned, sat down, and turned on his computer. An unread email sat in his inbox. The sender’s name made his jaw tighten—Clara Bennett.