Chapter 4

Noah's fingers were still on my wrist. Hearing my question, his pupils contracted slightly.

"Skyler, you have to trust me." His voice was low and urgent. "That's all ancient history. These five years, you've been the only one by my side..."

His eyes held a panic I'd never seen before, making me momentarily dazed—maybe he does care about me.

But just then, his gaze suddenly shot past my shoulder, pupils contracting again.

"Noah!" Bella's voice came from behind.

The arm around me suddenly released, and he jerked back like he'd been shocked. That movement was so fast, like pure instinct, drawing an invisible boundary between us.

In that moment, I finally understood—the current girlfriend of five years couldn't compete with a returning ex.

I stepped back twice, putting distance between us. "Go on. Don't keep her waiting."

Without waiting for his response, I turned and pushed through the restaurant's glass doors. New York's night wind rushed into my collar, and I realized I'd been shaking the whole time.

I thought I'd been mentally prepared, but when betrayal was laid out so nakedly, the heart still hurts.

From the restaurant to the apartment was only twenty blocks, yet I walked for a full three hours.

When I pushed open the apartment door, the entryway clock pointed to one AM.

I curled up on the living room sofa, phone screen glowing on my face. My finger unconsciously clicked on Bella's Instagram.

Her latest post was from ten minutes ago.

In the photo, Bella wore a black sequined mini dress, straddling Noah's neck, hands raised high, laughing boldly. Noah's hands steadied her thighs, looking up at her, his profile especially soft in the hazy light.

Caption: "Maximum boyfriend power! Who says captains only fly planes? #BestSupport"

I suddenly remembered last summer at the noisy Coney Island amusement park. I'd seen a girl excitedly riding her boyfriend's shoulders to watch fireworks and playfully tugged Noah's hand, wanting to try.

Noah had gently pushed me away, brow furrowing. "Don't do that, Skyler. It's not appropriate."

Turns out it wasn't inappropriate—just the wrong person.

Love was always selective treatment.

I closed my phone. The moment the screen went dark, a tear finally fell on the back of my hand. But I quickly wiped it away—crying over unworthy people was letting myself down.

Walking into the closet, Noah's clothes hung neatly on the left—those expensive custom shirts, each one I'd carefully selected with him. At the very back hung several unopened couple's outfits—because we could never wear them together in public.

"When we go on vacation," he'd promised.

Looking at it now, these clothes would never see daylight.

I slowly removed his clothes, folding each piece and packing them in storage boxes. Those couple's outfits went straight into garbage bags.

Then I started organizing my own luggage. Aurora Airlines' Seattle apartment was ready; I just needed to bring essentials. The largest suitcase I carefully packed with uniforms, professional wear, and daily clothes.

When Noah came home, it was almost three AM. His gaze fell on the suitcase by the wall, brow furrowing. "Packing this late?"

I zipped up my suitcase, voice flat: "Long flight next week. Getting things organized in advance."

He nodded, showing no suspicion. He even came over, bent down to check my suitcase lock, then click—personally locked it for me.

"Get some sleep." He patted the case like completing a task, then turned toward the bathroom.

I looked at that suitcase he'd personally locked, my throat suddenly tight. He'd never know this case didn't hold flight equipment, but my determination to leave.

Water sounds came from the bathroom. I gently ran my fingers over the cold suitcase surface. Five years of relationship, finally reduced to just this case he'd personally locked, and a heart that could never open again.