Chapter 8
322words
He looked haggard—expensive suit wrinkled, chin covered in stubble. When he saw Lena, hope flared instantly in his eyes.
"Lena, please hear me out..." He held up a brand new camera box. "I consulted every expert—this is the absolute best medium format on the market, far superior to your old one. I—"
"Alex," Lena interrupted calmly, "you don't understand. It was never about new versus old, or good versus bad."
"Then what exactly do I need to do for you to forgive me?!" He verged on breaking down.
"I'm not waiting for your forgiveness," Lena met his gaze with neither love nor hatred—just calm emptiness. "I'm saying goodbye. I never loved you, Alex. You and your orderly life were just a bomb shelter I crawled into. Now the all-clear has sounded."
Color drained from Alex's face. He opened his mouth to argue, but Lena's gaze was honest to the point of cruelty.
Just then, his phone rang—"Chloe" flashing on screen. He fumbled to silence it but accidentally answered instead. Chloe's sharp voice blared through the speaker: "Alex! Where the hell are you?! You promised you'd handle this!"
While he was distracted, Lena took the brand-new camera box from his hand and, without hesitation, walked to the nearby lake and threw it in.
The box traced a brief arc over the water, made a hollow plop, and vanished into the dark green depths, leaving no trace.
In the JFK departure lounge, Lena removed her American SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the trash.
Outside her window, New York's lights receded into darkness.
The jet engines roared to life, propelling her from one world to another. She slipped on her eye mask, blocking all light, allowing herself to sink into the deep ocean of darkness and memory.
"Liam," she whispered in her heart, "I'm back."
The floodgates of memory burst open.
