When Dreams Collide: Y/N and Elizabeth Olsen RE WRITING

Chapter 15 : The Final Goodbye (Elizabeth's POV)

Chapter 15: The Final Goodbye
Elizabeth’s POV

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Setting: Elizabeth’s home, Los Angeles.
Characters: Elizabeth, Y/N, Jarine, Robbie, Lucky the dog.

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The golden hues of the Los Angeles sun poured through the large bay windows, bathing the living room in warmth. It should’ve been comforting, but Elizabeth found little solace in it. She sat on the plush couch, her fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. Lucky, her ever-faithful Labrador, lay sprawled at her feet, snoring softly. His rhythmic breaths were the only sounds in the otherwise still room.

She reached down absentmindedly, her hand gliding over his soft fur. Despite the stillness, her mind raced. Life had a funny way of shifting beneath her feet. Her marriage to Robbie had been everything she thought she wanted—an anchor to her chaotic life, a sense of stability. But lately, even that felt hollow, as if she were playing a part in someone else’s story.

She had tried to push Y/N from her mind for months, forcing herself to believe that chapter was over. But memories of her ex always seemed to resurface—small things like a favorite song on the radio, the smell of ginger tea, or the way Lucky sometimes wagged his tail for no reason. Y/N had a way of lingering, even in absence.

A sudden knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Lucky’s ears perked up, and he let out an enthusiastic bark. Elizabeth placed her coffee on the table and crossed the room, her bare feet padding against the hardwood floor.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to see her mother, Jarine, standing there.

“Mom?” Elizabeth’s brows knitted in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

Jarine stepped inside, her soft smile not quite reaching her eyes. She held a cream-colored envelope in her hands, her fingers gripping it tightly as though it might slip away.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Jarine said gently, but there was a heaviness in her tone. “I came to give you something.”

Elizabeth stepped aside, letting her mother into the house. Lucky bounded toward Jarine, tail wagging wildly as if he could sense the significance of her visit.

“Let’s sit,” Jarine suggested, motioning to the couch.

Elizabeth followed her mother, her gaze fixed on the envelope. It felt ominous, like a weight she wasn’t sure she was ready to carry. They sat down, Lucky curling up beside them, his head resting on Jarine’s lap.

Jarine took a deep breath before handing Elizabeth the envelope. “It’s from Y/N.”

The room seemed to shift, the air suddenly heavier. Elizabeth froze, staring at the envelope in her lap. Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat louder than the last. She hadn’t heard from Y/N in months—not since the day she’d walked away from everything they had built together.

“She came to see me,” Jarine explained softly. “She came to say goodbye—to me, to Lucky, to… you. She said she needed closure, and she thought you might need it too.”

Elizabeth’s hands trembled as she traced the edge of the envelope. A lump formed in her throat, making it hard to breathe.

“She’s letting go, Lizzie,” Jarine said, her voice full of compassion. “She’s ready to move forward, and she wants you to be able to do the same.”

Elizabeth didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The weight of her mother’s words pressed down on her, making her feel small and exposed.

“I’ll leave you to read it,” Jarine said, standing and placing a gentle kiss on Elizabeth’s forehead.

Once her mother was gone, Elizabeth sat alone in the quiet of the living room, the envelope still unopened in her hands. Lucky shifted at her feet, his big brown eyes looking up at her as though offering comfort.

Finally, she tore the envelope open, her hands trembling. Inside was a single sheet of paper, Y/N’s familiar handwriting scrawled across it.

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The Letter:

Dear Elizabeth,

I’ve written and rewritten this letter so many times, never quite finding the right words. But I think I’ve finally realized there are no perfect words for goodbye.

When I saw your mom today, and Lucky, it felt like closing a door I’ve been afraid to shut for far too long. I’ve been holding onto us, Lizzie, even when I knew I shouldn’t. Every memory, every moment we shared—it’s all been like an anchor keeping me tied to the past. But I can’t do it anymore.

This is my goodbye.

Lucky will stay with you. He always loved you more, and I think he knows you need him more than I do now. He’ll be your reminder of the love we once had—the good parts, the happy moments. But for me, it’s time to let go of those memories so I can make space for new ones.

I’ve left a wedding gift for you and Robbie with your mom. It’s small, but I hope it reminds you of the best parts of us. Of what we once meant to each other.

I hope you find the happiness we couldn’t. I hope you and Robbie build a life filled with love and joy, the kind we once dreamed about. And I hope you can forgive me for walking away—for not being the person you needed me to be.

This is the last time you’ll hear from me, Lizzie. It’s time for both of us to move on.

Goodbye.

With all my love,
Y/N

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Elizabeth’s vision blurred as tears streamed down her face. She clutched the letter to her chest, her sobs breaking the silence of the room. Lucky whined softly, nuzzling her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

She felt the weight of Y/N’s words, the finality of them. It was over. Truly over.

Elizabeth’s gaze drifted to the small table by the window, where a neatly wrapped package sat. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but now she knew it was Y/N’s wedding gift. With trembling hands, she unwrapped it, revealing a delicate picture frame.

Inside was a photograph—one she hadn’t seen in years. It was the three of them: Elizabeth, Y/N, and Lucky, all smiles on a sunny afternoon. It was taken during one of their happiest days together, long before the cracks in their relationship had started to show.

A small note was tucked inside the frame:

For the memories.
I hope you find the happiness we once had.

Elizabeth traced the edges of the frame, her heart aching with a mix of love and regret. She placed it on the bedside table, where it would remain—a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in golden twilight, Elizabeth whispered softly, “Goodbye, Y/N.”

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to grieve—not just for the end of their love, but for the parts of herself she had lost along the way.

And maybe, just maybe, she could finally begin to let go.