Mr.Brightside

Chapter 82

Jack's Departure

The day I booked my flight to Berlin, everything felt surreal. I sat in my studio, staring at the confirmation email on my laptop, the words "Departure: Berlin" flashing across the screen. It was happening. This wasn't just an idea anymore—this was real. I was leaving.

The weight of the decision still sat heavy on my chest, and I couldn't help but feel the mix of emotions: excitement, guilt, sadness, relief. I'd told Clara a few days ago, and since then, we'd fallen into this strange limbo, living side by side but knowing that everything was about to change. We still loved each other, but that love was tangled with the reality that we were on different paths now.

As I packed up my things, the studio felt emptier than usual. Most of my tools and projects would stay behind, a reminder of the life I'd built here, the life I was now walking away from. I'd spent years pouring myself into this place, into Clara's dream, into what I thought was our future together. But now, standing on the edge of something new, I realized that I had no idea what my own future looked like.

The thought scared me, but it also felt like freedom.

I heard the door creak open behind me and turned to see Clara standing there, her eyes red and puffy from what I could only assume was another sleepless night. We hadn't spoken much since that emotional conversation in the studio, but now, here she was, standing in the doorway, watching me pack.

"Hey," I said softly, unsure of what to say.

She stepped inside, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were trying to hold herself together. "Hey," she replied, her voice quiet.

I closed the suitcase in front of me, zipping it up slowly. "I wasn't expecting you to come by."

Clara shrugged, biting her lip. "I wanted to see you before... before you left."

There was so much unspoken between us. All the words we hadn't said, all the emotions we'd tried to bury. Now, as the reality of my leaving settled in, it felt like we were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, unable to reach each other.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my mouth before I could stop them.

Clara looked at me, surprised. "For what?"

"For all of this," I said, gesturing around the room. "For not being able to figure things out sooner. For... leaving."

She shook her head, stepping closer. "You don't have to apologize, Jack. I get it. I really do. I know you've been feeling lost, and I don't want to stand in the way of you finding yourself. But that doesn't make this any easier."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "No, it doesn't."

For a moment, we stood there in silence, the air between us thick with unspoken words. I wanted to reach out, to hold her one last time, but something inside me stopped. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was the end of an era for us, or maybe it was the fear that holding on would make leaving even harder.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" Clara asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I didn't have an answer. I wanted to say yes, to promise her that we'd find our way back to each other, that this was just a temporary break. But the truth was, I didn't know. I had no idea what Berlin would bring, or how this time apart would change us.

"I hope so," I said, my voice strained. "I really do."

Clara nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Me too."

I took a deep breath and finally closed the distance between us, pulling her into my arms. She hugged me tightly, her face buried in my chest, and I could feel the weight of everything we'd been through—the love, the fights, the dreams we'd shared. And now, the bittersweet ending to this chapter of our lives.

"I love you," she whispered against my shirt, her voice trembling.

"I love you too," I said, my throat tight.

We stood there for what felt like forever, holding each other, both knowing that this was goodbye, even if we didn't want to say the words out loud. It wasn't the kind of goodbye that came with slamming doors or angry words—it was the quiet, heartbreaking kind, the kind where you both know it's the right thing to do but wish with everything inside you that it wasn't.

Finally, Clara pulled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "You should get going," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You don't want to miss your flight."

I nodded, my chest aching. "Yeah, I guess I should."

We walked to the door together, and as I stepped outside, the cool breeze hit my face. I turned to look at Clara one last time, standing in the doorway of the studio we'd built together, the life we'd built together.

"Take care of yourself," she said softly, her eyes searching mine.

"You too," I replied, my heart breaking with every word.

And with that, I turned and walked away, the weight of the decision pressing down on me with every step. I didn't look back, even though every part of me wanted to. I knew if I did, I might never be able to leave.

As I got into the cab and it pulled away, I stared out the window, the city blurring by. This was it. I was heading toward a new beginning, a chance to rediscover who I was, to find my own path. But even as the excitement of the unknown swirled inside me, there was a hollow space in my chest where Clara had been—a space I wasn't sure would ever fully heal.

Berlin was waiting, and with it, the future. But as I watched the city I'd called home for so long disappear behind me, all I could think about was what I was leaving behind.

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