"I've told you a hundred times, Callum, your father’s death was an accident! Why won’t you just drop it already?" Yolanda snapped, exasperated. "Honestly, I think you need to get your head checked. And while you're at it, apologize right now!"
I stared at her, the woman I had loved for six years, but at that moment, she felt like a complete stranger.
A bitter laugh escaped me. Without thinking, I reached down, grabbed the knife Jordan had thrown earlier and plunged it into my own shoulder.
The pain was sharp, hot, but I barely reacted. Blood immediately spilled down my arm, darkening my shirt.
"Callum, what the hell are you doing?!" Yolanda shrieked, her face going pale.
I met her gaze, completely unfazed. "You wanted me to apologize, right? Well, here it is—my sincerity. Satisfied?"
She stood there, frozen.
I yanked the knife out, the wound stinging, but it didn't matter. "You're right, Yolanda," I murmured. "Nothing I do will bring my father back."
Then, without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving a trail of blood behind me. Yolanda sucked in a sharp breath and for the first time, she actually hesitated.
"Callum—" But before she could say anything else, Jordan groaned dramatically, clutching his arm.
"Yolanda, Callum is so strong, he’ll be fine," he whined. "My arm, though… it really hurts. Can you take me to the hospital? I—I don’t want it to scar…"
And that was it. Yolanda bit her lip, glanced between us for a second… then stayed with him.
She never came home that night. I spent hours packing my things, then tossed everything into the fireplace, watching the flames turn my past into ash.
By morning, there was nothing left. The next day, my phone rang. Yolanda’s voice came through, softer than usual. "Callum… how’s your shoulder? Did you get it bandaged?"
I didn’t respond.
She sighed. "I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have forgotten your birthday. And I shouldn’t have said those things about your dad."
I stayed silent.
"Jordan's arm was injured," she added quickly, like she needed me to understand. "You know he’s been weak ever since the transplant. I was worried about him. And… I didn’t want Kyra to give you trouble."
I almost laughed.
Kyra wasn’t the one who destroyed my life. You did, Yolanda.
But I kept my tone even. "I'm fine. You're right, Jordan isn’t in good health. You should take care of him."
Relief flooded her voice. "I knew you’d understand." She brightened up. "Let’s celebrate your birthday tomorrow, okay? I’ll be back in the morning and I’ll bring you a gift. Buy whatever you want, it’s on me!"
But some things, once broken, could never be fixed.
"Okay," I said.
Morning came, she never showed up.
I left the divorce papers and a USB drive on the table, containing every lie, every betrayal, every piece of evidence she thought I hadn’t noticed. Then, without looking back, I walked out the door.
For the first time in years, I felt free.
Outside the hospital, my phone buzzed with a voice message from Yolanda. "Callum, I'm really sorry. An important client showed up out of nowhere and I have to meet him. How about this, I'll have my assistant take you to the mall. Pick out whatever you want and we'll meet at the banquet tonight, okay?"
I stared at the message for a second before replying. "Okay."
Sweet words. Too bad they were built on a lie.
Yolanda had no idea Jordan had just posted a story. I clicked on it. There they were—relaxing in a hot spring, Yolanda sitting right beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. Behind them, a full wall of frozen roses glowed under soft lights.
[I was only slightly injured, but she insisted on taking me to the spring, saying it's good for my body. She was worried I wouldn’t like it, so she gave me all these roses instead. Turns out, I’m loved wherever I go.]
I locked my phone and let out a slow breath. My wallpaper was still Yolanda. For a moment, I just looked at it. The woman I had loved for years, smiling like she actually cared.
Then, without hesitation, I walked over to a trash can and dropped my phone inside. I didn’t stop to watch it fall. Didn’t care when it hit the bottom with a dull thud.
I just turned and stepped into the hospital, leaving it behind. Meanwhile, Yolanda was still with Jordan. After the hot spring, she took him to the mall, staying by his side the whole time. It wasn’t until the sun started to set that she finally made her way to the hotel.
The party hall was exactly how she had planned it; filled with sunflowers, golden petals glowing under the soft lights.
She thought it was a nice touch. After all, this was the flower she used when she proposed to me. She thought I would still love them. She thought they would be enough.
Yolanda had been waiting for what felt like forever, but I still hadn’t shown up. She checked her phone, hesitated, then sighed. Just as she was about to call me, her assistant came running over, looking flustered, clutching a small box in his hands.
"Ms. Sinclair, he's not at home," he blurted out, breathless. "And someone just dropped this off for you. They said it’s from him."
