Chapter 5

I lingered outside for a while, bought a new phone, reported the incident, and gave a statement to the police.

I finalized my master’s application plan for the fall semester with a study abroad agency and bought a ticket for a flight to the States in ten days.

I planned to undergo treatment while continuing my studies.

It was seven in the evening when I got home.

Looking at the half-packed house, covered in a thick layer of dust, I knew Julian hadn't returned.

After eating something, I continued clearing out my belongings.

The door clicked open. It was Julian.

Julian watched my actions, his face returning to its cold expression.

He seemed to sense something was different about me today, but couldn’t pinpoint what.

He didn't pause, walking directly into the bedroom, where I heard a rummaging sound.

Then he rushed out, scattering his neatly packed clothes and various items I’d organized.

“What are you doing?!”

I stepped forward, but his hand blocked me, and I fell to the floor.

“Where’s the voice recorder?!”

It was Julian’s voice. How long had it been since he spoke to me?

“What voice recorder? I didn’t take anything.”

I said, watching the bandage on my right hand slowly soak with blood again.

Another rummaging sound.

I looked up. I’d never seen Julian so disheveled.

He was frantically sweating, his tie askew, and his coat stained with dust.

“Where’s the voice recorder!”

Julian stopped, looking down at me.

“I told you I didn’t see it!”

I had never been so assertive. I used my left hand to push myself up, wobbling, and stood eye-to-eye with Julian.

Julian seemed a bit flustered, and anger began to boil.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, then slammed it into the nearby glass sliding door.

The glass shattered to the floor.

“My voice recorder, where is it.”

Julian took a few steps closer, still relentlessly questioning.

Blood dripped from his right hand. I’d never seen Julian so manic.

I mustered my courage and shoved him away, intending to limp out the door.

“This is Julian Thorne, I’m eighteen, and I want to confess my feelings to Willow Evans.”

“Willow, today is our two-year anniversary. I hope we’ll stay together forever.”

“Willow, we’ve been together for three years. My wish this year is still to be with you always.”

“Willow… why did you leave?”

“Willow, I’m getting married.”

Julian crashed into a pile of clutter. A worn voice recorder rolled out from somewhere.

A red light flashed repeatedly, and it began to play its contents.

It was Julian’s love letters to Willow, starting from his youth.

“Goodbye, Willow, I hope to see you again.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

The recorder seemed broken from the impact, repeating “Goodbye” over and over.

Julian quickly got up and picked it up, frantically pressing the power button, but it was no use.

My departing footsteps halted.

I slowly turned around, leaning against the shoe cabinet by the entrance.

Tears streamed down my face.

“Julian Thorne.”

“Why did you marry me if you didn’t love me?”

Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He seemed to want to say something but didn’t.

"Let me explain, Audrey."

A message flashed on his phone.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down.

I brutally stifled the bitterness rising in my heart.

“Leave. Take all your things and get out of my house.”

Julian’s lips were pressed tightly together.

He just clutched the voice recorder, still repeating that single phrase, and walked past me out the door.

"I'm sorry."