It's been five months since Zia left, and the ache in my heart still feels as fresh as the day she walked out the door. If only I had known that our passionate kiss goodbye would be our last, I would have held her tighter and committed every sensation to memory. But in that moment, I thought I was doing the right thing by not standing in the way of her dreams.
"I want you to be successful," I had told her through trembling lips. "That's all I've ever wanted for you." I remembered it so well.
Yet even now, I can scarcely believe our relationship has truly ended. We shared such joy and intimacy for those few blissful weeks. In return, I've endured months of loneliness, longing for her arms around me once more.
Today I'm leaving the house to meet Zyke. She has a new client she needs assistance with. Zyke's support has been invaluable these past months, though I can't help but feel ashamed at how much I've relied on her.
When I arrive at our meeting place, I immediately scan the crowd for Zyke's familiar face. It doesn't take long to spot her, but something else catches my eye—a sight that stops me dead in my tracks. My breath abandons me as if I've been plunged into arctic waters.
There, walking confidently beside Clint, is Zia. The woman I thought I'd spend my life with is now seemingly moving on with her life like I never existed.
A thousand emotions swirl through me all at once: shock, betrayal, and devastation. Seeing her with Clint is like a bucket of ice water finally extinguishing that flicker of possibility.
I can't move, and I can't breathe. My legs have turned into cement pillars, weighing me down. Luckily, Zyke notices me frozen among the crowd and rushes over, concern etched across her face.
"Eli, are you okay?" Her eyes follow mine to the embracing couple.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..." she said, surprised.
I shake my head minutely, finding my voice. "It's okay. I...I just need a minute." I paste on an utterly unconvincing smile. "Where's the washroom?"
Zyke points down the hall, and I spin on my heel, desperate for the privacy to fall apart alone, away from prying eyes. My steps quicken as the first tears begin streaking down my cheeks.
When I entered the washroom, the dam holding back my tears finally broke. Pain washed over me in relentless waves as sobs wreaked havoc on my body. What did I do so terribly wrong for Zia to treat me this way? Since walking out of my life five months ago, she had only contacted me once—clearly too preoccupied with her new partner, Clint.
I looked at my miserable reflection in the mirror and slowly wiped the tears from my face. Everything was painfully clear now. For Zia, our weeks together had merely been a game to play until something better came along. The realization cut me deeply, but I knew I had to accept that I could no longer rely on her or cling to the dreams I'd built for our future.
After splashing some cold water on my face and regaining my composure, I walked out of the washroom, only to come face-to-face with the source of my anguish. Zia's eyes met mine, and I watched shock and something like guilt register as she realized it was me standing before her.
"Eli? What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone almost accusatory, as if my presence was the bigger transgression.
I mustered what I hoped was a calm, unbothered smile. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? As far as I knew, you were in another country living your dreams." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice completely.
Zia looked away, unable or unwilling to hold my gaze. "I need to come to your house. We should talk...alone."
White-hot anger flared within me at her audacity. "Talk about what, exactly? I've seen everything I need to see with my own eyes." I gestured vaguely in the direction I'd spotted her with Clint.
For just an instant, I saw her mask slip, revealing the warring emotions underneath: shame, regret, and sadness. But she fought to regain her composure. "Not everything you think you saw is true," she insisted, almost pleading. "I don't want to argue with you here. Please, just wait for me at your house tonight so we can discuss this properly."
Before I could respond, she turned abruptly and walked away, leaving me reeling with turmoil. Part of me burned with anger at her callousness, while another part couldn't help but crave an explanation, no matter how pitiful. Did some naive, hopeful part of me still wish for a way to recapture what we'd once had?
With a weary sigh, I headed back toward Zyke, knowing I had a long, agonizing wait ahead of me until Zia's arrival brought either truth and clarity or compounded my heartbreak. I could only hope I'd find the strength to endure whatever happened next.
When I finally emerged from the washroom, my eyes immediately found Zyke waiting patiently. I walked over and sank down heavily beside her. She didn't say a word; she just looked at me with understanding eyes, allowing me to gather my thoughts.
I let out a shuddering sigh. "I saw Zia," I said finally, my voice sounding small and defeated even to my own ears.
Zyke nodded slowly. "I saw her too," she acknowledged.
Another sigh escaped me as I tried to muster a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "We spoke briefly. She said that not everything I think I saw is true." I searched Zyke's face, desperate for an outside perspective. "If I asked you, what do you think? Is she telling the truth?"
Zyke considered this for a moment before responding carefully. "I don't know the full story, Eli. Only you and Zia know what truly happened between you two." She placed a comforting hand on my arm. "I want to believe there's an innocent explanation, for your sake. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want you to get your hopes up again, only to be let down," she said.
I could feel the truth in her words, like a lead weight pressing on my chest. As much as I craved for there to be some misunderstanding, some way to rekindle what Zia and I once had, I knew clinging to false hope would only prolong the agony.
"You're right," I said finally. "As much as I want to believe her, a part of me is terrified to let myself go there again, only to be crushed all over again." I managed a rueful smile. "Maybe it's time to rip off the band-aid."
Zyke squeezed my arm sympathetically. "I can't tell you what the right choice is," she said sincerely. "But I do think you owe it to yourself to get the full truth from Zia, whatever it ends up being. Then you can decide if there's anything left to fight for in your relationship, or if it's time to move on and start healing."
I felt the warring impulses within me battling—the part of me that still desperately loved Zia and hoped for reconciliation, and the part intent on preserving what little remained of my dignity and self-respect. Whichever path I chose, I knew the road ahead would be one of the most difficult challenges I'd ever faced.
