Chapter 5: The Day He Realized I Was Gone

When the plane landed, a light rain was falling outside.

The moment I turned my phone back on, it was flooded with notifications. Jared had called more than 30 times. His text messages tracked a rapid descent from gentle pleading to impatient frustration.

"Tasha, where did you go?"

"Stop this. Didn't I say I would marry you?"

"You deleted all your posts. What does that mean?"

The last message had been sent at 4:00 am.

"Babe, I was wrong. Please answer the phone, okay?"

I stared at the words for a long time.

A few days ago, that message would have been enough to destroy every bit of determination I had.

I would have imagined Jared sitting alone somewhere, exhausted and worried about me. I would have called him back, listened to his explanation, and somehow ended up apologizing for making him anxious.

Seven years had trained me well.

Whenever Jared hurt me, I eventually became the one comforting him.

But now I knew where he had been when he sent those messages.

Yvette's anniversary party.

The same hotel where he had introduced me as a friend.

The same night he had told me he planned to marry both of us.

His apology suddenly seemed almost ridiculous.

I didn't reply.

Instead, I opened our shared banking app.

The account had been created four years ago when Jared and I first moved in together. At the time, he had wrapped his arms around me from behind while I filled out the paperwork.

"We're practically married already," he had whispered.

I used to smile whenever I remembered that.

Now I downloaded the transaction history.

Three years.

Hotels.

Restaurants.

Flights.

Jewelry.

Concert tickets.

Resort bookings.

I hadn't noticed because Jared handled several business expenses through the same card, and I trusted him enough that I rarely checked individual transactions.

That trust had financed his second relationship.

I found the five-figure jewelry purchase from yesterday and stared at it.

Then I called the bank.

By the time I left the airport, my salary account had been separated from our shared finances, my cards had been removed from the joint payment profiles I could legally control, and every automatic transfer originating from my personal account had been canceled.

I didn't touch money that belonged to Jared.

I simply stopped giving him access to mine.

My phone rang while I was waiting for my luggage.

Jared.

I declined the call.

He called again.

Declined.

A third time.

Declined.

Then came a message.

"Tasha, don't test my patience."

I almost laughed.

There he was.

The real Jared.

The pleading had lasted only as long as he believed it would make me obey.

Another message appeared.

"Where are you? I went home and your things are gone."

Then another.

"Your passport isn't here either."

And finally:

"Did you actually leave?"

For some reason, that was the message that made my eyes burn.

Not because I regretted leaving.

Because after everything, he still sounded surprised.

He truly hadn't believed I could do it.

When I walked through the arrivals gate, Mom was the first person I saw.

She didn't ask questions.

She just opened her arms.

I made it three steps before breaking down.

"Mom."

She held me tightly.

"You're home."

Dad stood beside her with red eyes, pretending to be very interested in taking my suitcase.

"Give me that," he muttered. "You packed bricks or what?"

I laughed through my tears.

It was an ugly, broken sound.

Dad took the suitcase anyway.

Neither of them mentioned Jared during the drive.

Mom asked whether I had eaten.

Dad complained about the rain.

They talked about ordinary things as if they understood that ordinary things were exactly what I needed.

Only when we reached their house did I realize how exhausted I was.

My old bedroom had barely changed.

The pale curtains were still there. The bookshelf still held the novels I had abandoned when I moved away. A framed photograph from my university graduation sat on the desk.

Jared was in that photograph.

I picked it up.

He stood beside me with one arm around my waist, smiling at the camera.

Back then, everyone at university knew we were together.

The hiding had come later.

Slowly.

So slowly that I hadn't noticed when love became isolation.

First, he stopped taking me to gatherings.

Then he said his new colleagues were too intrusive.

Then his business circle became separate from our private life.

Then there was always a reason I couldn't meet someone.

I had mistaken being excluded for being protected.

I opened the frame, removed the photograph, and placed it facedown inside a drawer.

I wasn't ready to throw every memory away.

But I didn't need to display them anymore.

My phone rang again.

This time, it was Zoe.

I watched her name flash across the screen until the call ended.

Then she sent a message.

"Tasha, please answer me. Jared is going crazy looking for you."

A second message followed.

"Yvette has been crying all morning too. Everything is a mess."

I stared at it.

Even now, Zoe's first concern wasn't whether I was okay.

It was the mess my departure had created for them.

I blocked her.

Then I blocked Jared.

For the first time in seven years, my phone became completely silent.

I put it on the desk and went downstairs.

Mom had made soup.

Dad had already placed an extra cushion on my chair because he remembered I complained that their dining chairs were uncomfortable.

Such tiny things.

Yet they nearly made me cry again.

I had spent years begging Jared for evidence that I belonged in his life.

Here, nobody needed to be reminded.

…

Jared's POV

The apartment looked wrong.

Jared stood in the bedroom doorway, unable to understand what he was seeing.

Tasha's side of the closet was almost empty.

Her suitcase was gone.

Her laptop wasn't on the desk.

The small jewelry box she kept beside the mirror had disappeared.

Even the passport folder was missing.

This wasn't a tantrum.

That realization came slowly.

Then all at once.

"Fuck."

He pulled out his phone and called again.

The call didn't connect.

He tried a second time.

Nothing.

He opened the messaging app.

His latest messages showed no response.

Jared paced across the bedroom.

He was angry.

At least, anger was easier to understand than the unfamiliar panic crawling through his chest.

Tasha had never done this before.

They had fought countless times.

Sometimes she cried.

Sometimes she locked herself in the bedroom.

Once, she stayed at Zoe's apartment overnight.

But she always came back.

She always answered eventually.

She loved him too much not to.

Jared had known that with the same certainty that he knew the sun would rise.

His phone rang.

Yvette.

He rejected the call.

She immediately called again.

He answered impatiently.

"What?"

There was silence.

Then Yvette asked softly, "Did you find her?"

"No."

"Jared, you promised we'd talk today."

He rubbed his forehead.

"Not now, Yvette."

"You left without even telling me."

"Tasha disappeared."

"She didn't disappear. She left."

Something about the certainty in Yvette's voice irritated him.

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is that she knows about us now."

Jared looked toward the empty closet.

"She'll calm down."

Yvette didn't respond.

"She always does," Jared added.

This time Yvette gave a strange laugh.

"You really believe that?"

"I've known Tasha for seven years."

"Then why don't you know where she went?"

Jared's expression hardened.

"Don't start with me."

Yvette went quiet.

He immediately regretted his tone.

Normally he would have comforted her.

Normally he would have told her she was different, special, the person who brought excitement back into his life.

But all he could see was Tasha's empty closet.

"I'll call you later."

He ended the call.

Then he noticed something else.

The apartment was unnaturally quiet.

"Milo?"

No answer.

Jared walked toward the living room.

"Milo?"

The cat's food bowls were gone.

So was the carrier.

Tasha had taken Milo too.

Jared stood there, stunned.

He remembered bringing the kitten home five years ago.

Tasha had fallen in love instantly.

"He's our baby," she'd said.

Jared had laughed.

"Then you're the mom. I'm not cleaning the litter box."

And he hadn't.

For five years, Tasha bought the food, scheduled the vet appointments, cleaned the litter, and remembered every vaccination.

Just like she remembered everything else.

His dry cleaning.

His mother's birthday gifts, even though she had never met his mother.

The household bills.

His medication.

His preferred coffee.

The documents he constantly misplaced.

Jared looked around the apartment.

For the first time, he noticed how much of his life had Tasha's fingerprints on it.

The sofa she chose.

The photographs she framed.

The plants she watered.

The labels inside the kitchen cabinets.

The spare charger beside his usual seat.

Everything was still there.

But she wasn't.

His phone buzzed with a banking notification.

A scheduled transfer had been canceled.

Then another.

Then another.

Jared frowned and opened the banking app.

Tasha's personal contributions to several shared expenses had stopped.

He stared at the screen.

She hadn't taken his money.

She had simply taken herself out of the arrangement.

For some reason, that frightened him more.

Tasha wasn't trying to punish him.

She was separating her life from his.

He called Zoe.

She answered immediately.

"Did you find her?"

"No. Do you know where she went?"

"She blocked me."

"What did you say to her?"

Zoe hesitated.

"I told her not to ruin things for you and Yvette."

Jared closed his eyes.

"You said that?"

"What was I supposed to say? Everyone was emotional. I thought she'd calm down."

Jared suddenly remembered Tasha standing outside the hotel.

"Fine. I won't make a scene."

He had smiled when she said it.

He had kissed her forehead.

He had actually sent her home alone so he could return to Yvette.

At the time, he thought Tasha had surrendered.

Now he understood.

She hadn't surrendered.

She had finished.

"Find out where she is," Jared said.

"How?"

"Call her parents."

"They hate me."

"Why would they hate you?"

Another pause.

"Because I called them this morning."

Jared went still.

"And?"

"Her dad told me never to contact their daughter again."

The panic inside him finally became real.

He ended the call and immediately dialed Tasha's father.

The call connected after several rings.

"Mr. Hale, it's Jared."

"I know."

The older man's voice was colder than Jared had ever heard it.

"Is Tasha with you?"

"That's none of your business anymore."

Jared tightened his grip on the phone.

"Sir, this is between Tasha and me."

"Not anymore."

"I just need to speak to her."

"She doesn't want to speak to you."

"You don't understand. We've been together seven years."

Tasha's father laughed once, without humor.

"Seven years? Interesting. Apparently your friends thought you were with another woman for the last three."

Jared's face burned.

"It's complicated."

"No. It isn't."

The man's voice became quiet.

"My daughter spent seven years defending you to us. Every time we wondered why there was no wedding date, she defended you. Every time we asked why we never met your family, she defended you. Every holiday you missed, she found an excuse for you."

Jared couldn't speak.

"She protected your reputation even from her own parents. And you couldn't even give her the dignity of calling her your girlfriend in front of your friends."

"I love her."

"Then you have a strange way of showing it."

Jared's throat tightened.

"Please let me talk to her."

"No."

"Just five minutes."

"Jared, listen carefully. Tasha came home because she was hurt. She doesn't owe you another conversation simply because you've finally become afraid of losing her."

The call ended.

Jared remained standing in the silent apartment.

For several seconds, he couldn't move.

Then he opened his social media.

Six hundred and twenty-seven posts.

Nearly all of them contained Yvette.

Trips.

Birthdays.

Anniversaries.

Restaurants.

Gifts.

Public declarations.

He scrolled faster.

There was nothing about Tasha.

Not one photograph.

Not one birthday message.

Not one anniversary.

Seven years.

Nothing.

He suddenly remembered the argument they had two years ago.

Tasha had asked him, "Jared, if I disappeared tomorrow, would anyone in your life even know who to call?"

He had laughed and pulled her into his arms.

"Why would you disappear? You're never getting away from me."

She hadn't laughed.

He remembered that now.

At the time, he hadn't understood why.

His phone buzzed.

Yvette had posted something.

A photograph from their anniversary party.

She had cropped Jared out.

The caption read:

"Maybe being shown to the world doesn't mean you're the one being chosen."

Jared stared at it.

Yesterday, he had believed he could keep both women.

Yvette could have the public romance she wanted.

Tasha could remain the permanent home waiting for him.

He had called that love.

Now one woman was questioning everything, and the other had vanished from his life completely.

Jared walked into the bedroom again.

His eyes fell on the bedside table.

Tasha's side was empty.

Only one object remained.

A key.

The apartment key he had given her when they first moved in together.

He picked it up.

A memory surfaced.

Jared had placed the key in her palm and closed her fingers around it.

"Now you can't run away," he had joked.

Tasha had smiled.

"What if I do?"

He had kissed her.

"I'll find you."

Standing in the empty bedroom seven years later, Jared closed his fist around the key.

For the first time, he understood that Tasha had never stayed because she couldn't leave.

She had stayed because she loved him.

And now that love was gone.

…

Tasha's POV

That night, I slept in my childhood bedroom with Milo curled against my legs.

For the first time in years, I didn't leave my phone volume on in case Jared needed me.

I didn't wonder whether he had eaten.

I didn't check his location.

I didn't wait for the sound of a key turning in the front door.

Before going to sleep, I opened my flight confirmation one last time.

Destination: Northram.

One-way.

I had booked it only hours after discovering Jared's secret life.

At the time, my hands had been trembling so badly that I entered my passport number twice.

Now, looking at the same confirmation, I felt strangely calm.

Seven years ago, Jared became the center of my world.

Seven years later, I had finally stepped outside his.

The room was dark when my phone screen briefly lit up.

A blocked-call notification.

Jared.

I looked at it for two seconds.

Then I turned the phone facedown.

He had spent seven years hiding me in the name of love.

Now he could finally learn what it felt like when I was truly nowhere to be found.