Chapter 22
738words
But as he stood at the entrance, fear suddenly gripped him.
It had been three months.
Surely, she must have seen his apologies and promises by now. Surely, her anger had subsided, at least a little.
This was the first real lead he had—photos and an exact location, not just rumors and speculation.
She must have forgiven him. That was why she was giving him this chance. It had to be.
They had loved each other for so many years. She had always been soft-hearted; she wouldn't truly leave him.
Luther couldn't bear to dwell on Callista's earlier decisiveness. Instead, he repeated these reassurances to himself over and over.
Clutching a box of honey garlic prawns he had carefully carried across cities, he walked into the restaurant and showed the photo to the owner.
Callista had eaten lunch using a meal voucher from a nearby guest house. Luther bought the voucher from the owner and rushed to the guest house.
The guest house was quaint, with a charming local vibe. Handmade bead curtains hung at the entrance, and the afternoon sunlight filtered through them, casting soft, romantic patterns on the ground.
Only then did Luther remember something Callista had told him before they married: she had always dreamed of traveling and exploring different places.
He had promised her back then that once they were married, they would spend weekends and holidays traveling together.
But he had never fulfilled that promise—not even once.
It's okay, he told himself. He'd simply spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
Luther stepped inside, then turned around again to visit the flower shop across the street. He carefully selected a bouquet of purple roses.
There was so much he wanted to tell her. One of the most important things was that he would never again forget her favorite color.
Once upstairs, he retrieved the honey garlic prawns he had been holding. The door to the room was ajar, and he couldn't wait any longer.
"Honey, I brought your favorite honey garlic prawns. They're cold now because of the long journey, but when we get back, I'll take you to eat them fresh. How does that sound?"
There was no answer.
"Cally, I'm not asking you to forgive me right away. You can just watch me change. I'll wait for as long as it takes for you to give me another chance."
Still, there was no response.
His throat was dry and his hands were trembling as Luther pushed the door open. Inside, the room was being cleaned. It was clear that the guest had already checked out.
Luther's face turned pale.
"The previous guest—where is she?"
"She just checked out. She's now heading to the airport."
The purple roses slipped from his hands and scattered across the floor. Without a second thought, Luther turned and bolted out the door. He raced toward the airport.
At that moment, Callista was at the airport, preparing to board a flight to her next destination. Her thoughts drifted to Jude as she waited.
She had always been private and avoided sharing travel photos online. She never told anyone about her plans.
So, where did Jude find the confidence to bet they would meet again?
Her phone buzzed with a trending topic notification. "Luther Spencer's journey to win back his wife."
She glanced at the comments below.
"Caught a glimpse of the man himself. Mr. Spencer showed up at the restaurant in the photo!"
"He's at the guest house now, and he's holding a bouquet of purple roses. It's definitely for Mrs. Spencer."
"He's clutching something else, too. I can't tell what it is from this distance, but he's treating it like a treasure. Must be something meaningful to him and his wife."
Callista immediately recognized it. It was the takeout box for the honey garlic prawns. But he seemed to have forgotten something.
That dish symbolized his apologies for the mistakes he had made. And now, he no longer had the right to ask for her forgiveness.
The boarding announcement played over the speakers. Callista put her phone away and stood to join the line. That was when she spotted Luther, who was drenched in sweat, bursting into the airport.
He looked around frantically, scanning the crowd.
Then, as if sensing something, he glanced toward Callista's direction.
