Chapter 33 - Seraphina

I stood in the garden, watering the plants, trying to find some solace in the mundane. The soft spray of water cascaded over the leaves, and for a brief moment, I let myself feel at peace. But then, like a thief in the night, a memory crept in—his mischievous laugh, the sparkle in his eyes as he sprayed me with the hose during that silly water fight.

I froze, gripping the watering can tightly, the ache in my chest deepening. I could still feel the cool droplets on my skin, his teasing voice echoing in my ears, "You started this, Seraphina. Now face the consequences!" His laughter had filled the garden that day, as vibrant and alive as the flowers around us. But now, the laughter was gone, replaced by a suffocating silence that reminded me of his absence.

Later, as I dried my hair, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My damp hair fell over my shoulders, and suddenly, his voice echoed in my mind, soft yet playful: "If I were your towel, I'd consider myself the luckiest thing alive." I could almost see his smirk, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he flirted with me, leaving me both annoyed and flustered.

Every moment of my life had become a cruel reminder of him. The little things—the way I brewed my coffee, the scent of his cologne that still lingered in the corners of my mind, the songs we used to hum together—everything was soaked in his presence. His absence wasn't just a void; it was a gaping wound that refused to heal.

I remembered the day he had handed me those divorce papers, his cold words stabbing me like daggers: "Forget me like a bad memory." I had tried to convince myself that he didn't mean it, that it was just his way of hiding his pain, but his words had cut deep.

How could I forget him? How could I erase the man who had given me the most beautiful memories of my life? Every laugh, every fight, every stolen glance—they weren't just memories; they were fragments of my soul.

I sank onto the edge of my bed, clutching the towel in my hands. My heart ached with a longing I couldn't describe. He had told me to forget him, but how could I forget the man who had made me feel alive, who had brought color to my world?

I pressed my hand to my chest, willing the pain to stop, but it only intensified. He had become a part of me, and now that he was gone, it felt like I was missing a vital piece of myself.

Tears blurred my vision as I whispered into the empty room, "How the fuck could I forget you, Adrian? You're unforgettable. You're in everything I see, everything I touch, everything I feel."

The silence that followed was deafening, but in it, I could still hear his voice, still feel his presence. No matter how much I tried to move forward, he was always there, a shadow that refused to leave me, a love that refused to fade.

I clutched the towel tighter, my hands trembling as the tears streamed down my cheeks. The memories were relentless, each one crashing over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under. I wanted to scream, to claw at my chest and pull this unbearable ache out of me, but instead, I just sat there, defeated and broken.

The house was too quiet. His laughter, his teasing remarks, even his infuriating silence—it was all gone. I glanced at the bedside table where a framed photo of us still stood. I had tried to put it away once, thinking it might help me move on, but I couldn't. His smile in that photo haunted me. He had looked so happy, so full of life. I wondered if he had ever truly smiled like that since we parted.

I rose from the bed, my legs heavy as I moved through the house. Each room was a battlefield of memories. The kitchen—where he'd cornered me one morning, stealing a bite of my toast and planting a kiss on my cheek, leaving me flustered and cursing at him. The living room—where we'd curled up on the couch, his arms wrapped around me as we watched some stupid movie neither of us cared about.

I paused at the window, staring out at the garden. The snow was falling softly, blanketing the world in white. I remembered how he'd once dragged me outside on a snowy night, years ago, just like this, insisting we build a snowman despite my protests. My lips trembled as I recalled the way he'd laughed when I threw a snowball at him, how he'd tackled me into the snow, his face inches from mine as he whispered, "You're beautiful, even when you're mad."

The weight of the memories was too much. I grabbed my coat and stepped outside, the icy wind biting at my skin. I needed air, needed to escape, but even the world outside seemed to conspire against me. The snow reminded me of him, the cold mirroring the emptiness in my heart.

I walked aimlessly, the streets bustling with holiday cheer. People were laughing, children were running around, and couples were holding hands, their love so palpable it made me sick. I hated them for having what I had lost, for being whole while I was shattered.

I passed by a small café and paused when I saw the pastries in the window. My mind betrayed me again, conjuring the memory of how he'd once taken me to a café just like this, ordering my favorite pastry and pretending he'd forgotten to pay so I'd have to cover the bill. I had been furious, but his sheepish grin had melted my anger, and we'd ended up laughing so hard the other customers stared at us.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass, my breath fogging it as I whispered to myself, "You told me to forget you, Adrian, but how can I? How can I forget the man who gave me the best moments of my life? How can I forget the man who became my everything?"

I stepped away from the window and continued walking, my feet dragging through the snow. I didn't know where I was going, but it didn't matter. No matter how far I walked, I couldn't escape him. He was everywhere—his voice, his touch, his love.

I stopped at a park bench and sat down, the cold seeping through my coat. I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my face in my arms as the tears came again. "Why did you leave me, Adrian? Why did you let me go? We could've been happy. We could've made it work."

The snow fell around me, soft and silent, as if mocking my pain. I wanted to believe that he missed me too, that he was hurting just as much as I was, but the doubt crept in, gnawing at my heart. What if he had moved on? What if he didn't care anymore?

I wiped my tears and looked up at the sky, the stars hidden behind the clouds. "I wish I could hate you, Adrian," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But I can't. I never could. You're the love of my life, and no matter how much it hurts, I'll always love you."

The world around me was celebrating, but inside, I was drowning. And the worst part? I didn't want to be saved. All I wanted was him.

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It's the last day of the year, and here I am, seated at a grand dinner table surrounded by business colleagues and partners, the air thick with polite laughter and conversations about achievements and resolutions. The crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow, reflecting off the fine china and polished silverware. To anyone watching, it must look like I'm perfectly at ease, blending seamlessly into this glamorous setting.

But my mind is elsewhere.

It's with him.

I stir the wine in my glass absentmindedly, my thoughts so far from the festive chatter around me that I barely register when the waiter places the menu in front of me. Sighing, I glance at it, not expecting anything to catch my attention.

But then I see it.

Caesar salad with a hint of mint.

The words pull me out of my stupor like a bolt of lightning. My hand freezes mid-air as a wave of memories crashes over me.

Adrian's laughter echoes in my mind, clear and vibrant. It was that one dinner we had in the garden, where I teased him endlessly for ordering such a "fancy" dish. "Who even puts mint in a salad? It's like they're trying too hard," I had joked, pretending to inspect every bite.

He had laughed so hard that he had tears in his eyes, shaking his head as he said, "You're impossible, Seraphina. Only you could turn a salad into a comedy act."

My heart aches as I clutch the menu, my fingers trembling. I glance at the table in front of me, at the three forks neatly arranged in a row. My throat tightens as his voice fills my mind again, teasing and warm: "Do you even know which fork to use first?"

I grip the edge of the table, my breath shallow and uneven. The weight of his absence crushes me, and I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that I'm fine, that my life is moving forward without him when every step I take feels like I'm walking in quicksand.

I have to go.

Even if he rejects me, even if he doesn't want to hear what I have to say, I can't keep carrying this weight. I can't live with this regret eating me alive.

The noise around me fades as I abruptly stand, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. Heads turn, and the room falls silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice cracking slightly as I fumble for an explanation. "I—I need to leave early. Please excuse me."

I don't wait for their response. Grabbing my coat, I push through the doors of the grand dining hall, the cold night air hitting my face as I step outside. My hands are trembling, my heart racing, but I don't stop. I can't stop.

I hail a cab, giving the address of his office. The drive feels excruciatingly long, the city lights blurring past as my mind races with thoughts. What if he doesn't want to see me? What if I've ruined everything? But deep down, I know I have to try.

When I arrive, I rush into the building, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The receptionist looks up in surprise as I approach her desk, my breath coming in short gasps.

"Is Adrian here?" I ask, my voice shaky but firm.

She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head. "He left a little while ago to meet someone. I can give you the address if you'd like?"

I nod frantically, barely able to focus as she writes it down. Grabbing the slip of paper, I thank her and run out of the building. My heart pounds in my chest as I wave down another cab, clutching the address like it's my lifeline.

I won't stop today.

No matter what happens, I have to tell him how I feel. If he doesn't feel the same, I'll deal with it. But I can't let another day go by in silence.

The streets blur past as the cab speeds toward the address, the city alive with New Year's celebrations. Fireworks explode in the distance, lighting up the night sky with vibrant colors, but I barely notice them.

All I can think about is Adrian. His voice, his laughter, his presence—everything I've been trying and failing to forget.

This time, I won't let fear or pride hold me back. If I'm going to start the new year, it has to be with the truth.

And with him.