Chapter 4

I moved back into the tiny studio apartment I had owned before the accident.

The day after I moved in, the flashing light of my doorbell signaled someone was outside.

Looking through the peephole, I saw Chloe Bennett.

I hesitated for a moment before opening the door.

The moment she saw me, she flashed a bright, apologetic smile.

Holding up a beautifully wrapped fruit basket, she mouthe d, "Iris, honey. Sorry to drop by unannounced. I just wanted to check on you."

I stepped aside to let her in.

The apartment was tiny. You could see everything in one glance.

Chloe looked around with curiosity. Her eyes swept over my cheap, simple furniture before landing back on me.

"Iris, sweetie, are you sure you’re okay living here all by yourself?" she asked, using slow, clumsy hand gestures.

"I’m fine," I replied shortly.

"Sigh. Iris, I heard about what happened at the party yesterday." Chloe leaned forward, her face dripping with pity.

"Honestly, I get it. Anyone in your position would feel insecure."

"It’s completely natural to feel like you aren't good enough for Julian, and that you're just dragging him down."

She paused, watching my reaction. Seeing my silence, she continued signing:

"But leaving him like that... it’s destroying him. He’s taking it so hard."

"He’s a good guy. He feels so responsible for what happened to you. He can’t let it go."

"By rejecting him like this, you’re just making him feel more guilty. He's suffering."

Her words, delivered through her clumsy signing, felt like a slap in the face.

She was reminding me that Julian and I started with a tragedy, and we would always be trapped by it.

"So?" I looked up, staring straight at her. "What’s your point?"

Chloe didn't expect me to challenge her. She blinked, then quickly forced a sweet, "caring" smile.

"So... I think if you really love Julian, you should make a clean break."

"A clean break?" I repeated.

"Yes," Chloe smiled, her tone dripping with venomous sweetness. "Like... leaving the city? Or maybe telling everyone you found someone else, so he doesn't feel guilty anymore."

"That way, Julian can finally move on and start a new life."

She let her eyes linger on my scarred face, her implication loud and clear.

"Start a new life? With you?"

A dull, heavy ache throbbed in my chest.

I grabbed a notepad and pen from the table, quickly scribbled a line, and shoved it in front of her.

[My life is none of your business, Chloe. Get out.]

Then, I pointed to the door.

Chloe’s fake smile faltered. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

But she didn't argue. She grabbed her designer purse and walked out.

I sank onto the couch, exhausted. But this time, I didn't shed a single tear.

Over the next few weeks, Julian tried to contact me.

First, I found a stack of sticky notes slipped under my door. They were filled with apologies for Chloe’s behavior. I ignored them.

Next, he showed up with a jacket I had left at the hotel and a bottle of nerve pain medication. He waited outside my door for an entire day until I finally had to go out.

The third time, he was drunk.

He banged on my door, sobbing and apologizing over and over.

I couldn't hear him, but my neighbors sent me a dozen angry texts on Snapchat. I had no choice but to open the door and drag him inside.

He collapsed onto my sofa, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He reached up, trying to touch my face, but I flinched away.

His hand froze in mid-air, then fell limply to his side.

"Iris..." he whimpered. "Why... why did you throw me away?"

"I didn't throw you away," I whispered, knowing he was too drunk to hear me. It was more for myself than him. "We just can't do this anymore."

Our gratitude was too heavy, and it crushed our love.

Our guilt was too deep, and it poisoned our hearts.

He passed out shortly after.

I sat beside him, watching his sleeping face. He was still incredibly handsome, but he looked so tired.

I took out my notepad and wrote:

[Julian, we are over.]

[Live your life. You don't owe me anything.]

[Please don't come back.]

I left the note on the table, grabbed my keys, and quietly shut the door behind me.

He deserved a bright, successful life. One without the heavy burden of me.