Chapter 7: The Day She Realized I Was Gone

Gina stood up abruptly, bracing herself against the desk.

"What did you say?"

She looked down at her phone, the call still active. She was about to speak, when on the other end, an airport announcement echoed through.

"Attention passengers. Your international flight—"

The next second, the call disconnected.

On my end, I turned off my phone and followed my future colleagues to the boarding queue.

The blonde, blue-eyed HR representative struck up a conversation with me in Eralish.

"Nathan, we're delighted you're finally joining us. We've waited seven years for this day. Are you ready to start over?"

I looked through the glass windows at the aircraft waiting on the runway.

"More than ready."

She smiled and handed me a folder containing my new contract, accommodation details, and the schedule for my first week.

For the first time in years, someone was offering me an opportunity without asking me to sacrifice something in return.

I tucked the folder into my bag and joined the queue.

Behind me, my old life was falling apart. Ahead of me, I had no idea what awaited me, but at least the decision was mine.

Meanwhile, back at Whitmore Corporation, Gina remained frozen beside her desk.

"Anna is dead?" she whispered.

Claire nodded, her eyes red. "The hospital confirmed it, Ms. Whitmore. Mr. Harper waited all day for the surgery funds. They never arrived."

Gina shook her head violently.

"No. I told Nathan I'd give him the money. He should have called me again."

Claire looked at her in disbelief.

"He did call, Ms. Whitmore. Your assistant's records show several messages requesting the advance. You asked us to wait because Mr. Morris was upset about the transfer."

Gina's face lost its color.

She remembered the two hundred dollars she had sent Nathan, as though a token amount could solve a child's medical emergency. She remembered telling him to be patient, promising that everything would be made right after Lincoln's birthday.

And she remembered Nathan's voice the night before.

"Let's break up."

At the time, she had thought he was merely throwing another tantrum.

Now she snatched up her phone and called him again.

The call went straight to voicemail.

"Nathan, answer me!" she shouted. "I know you're angry, but you can't just leave like this. We need to talk about Anna. I can still arrange everything. I'll make it right."

There was no answer.

Claire stood silently by the door as Gina called again and again.

"Get the airport information," Gina ordered. "Find out which flight he took and where it's going."

"Ms. Whitmore, his resignation has been approved. If he has completed the immigration process, we may not be able to reach him before departure."

"Then call the airline!"

Gina's voice cracked with panic.

For years, she had been certain that Nathan would always be there. He had stayed through every setback, every insult, every lonely night when her company was on the verge of collapse. She had mistaken his loyalty for an endless supply of forgiveness.

She had never imagined that he could truly leave.

At the airport, I settled into my seat as the cabin filled with passengers. A flight attendant checked my boarding pass and helped me place my suitcase in the overhead compartment.

I sat beside the window and watched the ground crew move around the aircraft.

My phone remained switched off.

For a moment, I thought about Anna's room. Her favorite stuffed rabbit was still sitting on her pillow. Her drawings were pinned to the wall, including one of Gina and me standing beneath a flower arch by the sea.

Anna had drawn herself between us, scattering petals with both hands.

She had believed in our future more than either of us deserved.

I pressed my forehead against the cool window and closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Anna," I whispered. "I tried to save you."

The announcement instructed everyone to fasten their seat belts. A few minutes later, the plane began moving toward the runway.

I did not turn on my phone when the aircraft lifted into the sky.

Back in the city, Gina finally received a message from the airline confirming that my flight had departed.

She stared at the screen as if the words might rearrange themselves.

"He really left," she murmured.

Lincoln arrived at her office shortly afterward, dressed for his birthday celebration. He carried a confident smile and expected the day to revolve around him.

"Gina, are we still going ahead with the party? Everyone's waiting for the announcement."

She barely looked at him.

"Cancel it."

Lincoln's smile disappeared.

"What? You promised you'd make today unforgettable."

"I said cancel it."

He stepped closer, irritation replacing his pleasant expression.

"Is this about Nathan again? You're still worried about that man? He resigned. Let him go. He was never worth all this trouble."

Gina looked up sharply.

"Don't talk about him."

Lincoln stared at her, surprised by the sudden anger.

"Why? He's gone. You have me now."

For the first time, Gina seemed to hear the words as they truly were.

You have me now.

She had spent a year giving Lincoln Nathan's position, Nathan's opportunities, and Nathan's place beside her. She had convinced herself that it was all part of a clever plan, a temporary performance that would end with Lincoln's humiliation.

But Lincoln had never been a pawn in her plan.

He had become the person she protected, the person whose anger frightened her, and the person whose approval she now sought.

Gina looked at him and realized that she had destroyed the one relationship that had ever asked nothing from her except honesty.

"You said you loved me," Lincoln muttered.

Gina gave a hollow laugh.

"I don't even know what love means anymore."

She walked past him, leaving the birthday decorations and the prepared announcement untouched.

But I was already far beyond her reach.

As the plane climbed above the clouds, the city disappeared beneath a blanket of white.

I took a deep breath and opened the folder my new employer had given me. My first assignment was waiting, along with a new office, a new home, and colleagues who knew me for my work rather than my relationship with a CEO.

For seven years, I had been Nathan Harper, the man who stood behind Gina Whitmore.

From that morning onward, I would be someone else—not because I had changed my name, but because I had finally stopped defining myself through her.

Gina might eventually regret what she had done. She might even try to find me.

But regret was not an apology, and an apology was not a second chance.

I had lost my sister, my relationship, and the future I once imagined. I could not change any of that.

What I could do was make sure I never lost myself again.

I watched the sunlight spill over the clouds and let the past fall away.

For the first time in seven years, I was finally moving forward.