Chapter 15: He Finally Faced the Consequences

For the next two weeks, I heard almost nothing from Kostas.

I thought that was a good thing.

I was beginning to rebuild my routine.

Work kept me busy during the day, and in the evenings I worked on my new apartment.

I bought curtains.

I assembled shelves.

I chose a small dining table.

None of it was expensive.

But every decision was mine.

That feeling was worth more than anything money could buy.

Then, one Friday afternoon, Nora called me.

“Romy, have you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Kostas's company is investigating him.”

I stopped what I was doing.

“Why?”

“Something about company expenses.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Apparently, some of the expenses were connected to Eleni.”

I sat down.

“What kind of expenses?”

“Travel. Hotels. Gifts.”

I closed my eyes.

So it hadn't only been one hotel.

Nora continued.

“Someone found several reimbursements that didn't match his business trips.”

“Is he going to lose his job?”

“I don't know.”

After we ended the call, I didn't feel happy about it.

I didn't want revenge.

I just wanted him to finally understand that choices had consequences.

That evening, Kostas called me.

I almost ignored him.

Instead, I answered.

“What happened?”

His voice sounded exhausted.

“The company found out about the hotel expenses.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Are you?”

I paused.

“I'm sorry you're dealing with the consequences.”

He was silent.

“I didn't think anyone would find out.”

I looked around my apartment.

“That's the problem, Kostas.”

“You didn't think anyone would find out.”

“You didn't think I would find out.”

“You didn't think your lies would eventually become real consequences.”

He sighed.

“Eleni left.”

“I know.”

“She took the bracelet.”

“I know.”

“She took some of my savings.”

I frowned.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I finally understand.”

“Understand what?”

“She never wanted me the way I thought she did.”

I remained silent.

“She wanted what you and I had.”

“The apartment.”

“The lifestyle.”

“The security.”

“And when she got close enough, she wanted everything.”

I looked down.

“You gave it to her.”

“I know.”

“I gave her every opportunity.”

“And I pushed you away to make room for her.”

His voice cracked.

“I'm sorry.”

I believed him.

That was the strange part.

For the first time, I believed that he was genuinely sorry.

But forgiveness and reconciliation were not the same thing.

“I forgive you,” I said.

He went quiet.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“But I don't want you back.”

His breathing became unsteady.

“Romy…”

“You need to understand that.”

“I'm not angry anymore.”

“I'm just done.”

He didn't argue.

Maybe he finally realized there was nothing left to negotiate.

Before ending the call, he said, “I hope you're happy.”

I looked around my little apartment.

The half-finished bookshelf.

The new curtains.

The boxes waiting to be unpacked.

I smiled.

“I already am.”

The call ended.

I put my phone down.

Then I opened the balcony door.

Cool evening air filled the room.

For months, I had thought happiness meant being chosen by someone.

Now I understood that sometimes happiness began when you stopped waiting to be chosen.