Goodbye, Red Flag

Without Sebastian in my life, things would be more than fine.

…

It was 2:00 p.m. when I finally left the train station. Five hours had passed since he promised to come with me to see my mother off. An hour had passed since I broke up with him.

I was about to hail an Uber when he called.

"I just got back from the vet, and this is what I see? 'We're over'?" His voice was sharp with disbelief. "What the hell is wrong with you this time?"

This time. He made it sound as though I had a habit of causing trouble.

Maybe he was right. I had been the one who cried and begged him for explanations more times than I cared to count. Those conversations always ended the same way. I would concede to his indifference and quietly patch myself together afterward.

I shook my head and said nothing.

His fury sharpened. "Madelaine Goode, I asked you a question. Answer me. Where are you, and what does this mean?"

"I'm at the train station," I said at last.

Silence followed. It felt as though he had finally remembered the three separate promises he made to meet my mother before she left Annsberg.

"Tell your mother to wait at the station," he said. "I'm coming right now."

I watched my mother's train pull away without expression. My phone rang again.

"Maddie, Suzy's dog is throwing up again. I need to check on them real quick. Tell your mother I'm sorry I couldn't make it this time. Next time, I'll go with you to your hometown and meet her. I'll apologize to her myself."

I hummed in response.

I did not feel disappointed or upset. This was his favorite refrain. "Next time, I will not miss our date. Next time, I will remember our anniversary. Next time, I will find the time to meet your mother."

Sebastian knew I would always grant him that grace. That certainty made it easy for him to offer promises he never intended to keep, no matter how much they hurt me.

There would be no next time. Not anymore. It was time to go home.

…

Leaving proved easier than I expected. One afternoon was enough to cancel my lease, pack my belongings, and submit my resignation.

Sebastian never showed up once that day.

That evening, my coworkers threw a farewell party. Lily, the intern, started crying before she finished her first drink.

"Promise you'll still talk to me after this, Maddie," she said, holding out her hand. "Pinkie swear."

My rival at work handed me a USB drive. "This is some information I gathered on my own related to our field. Don't lose it."

Even my employer, the man we jokingly called Capitalism's Lil' Soldier, pressed a bank card into my hand. He had heard about my mother.

"There's 72,000 dollars on it," he said quietly. "Everyone contributed. Use it for your mother's treatment."

I nodded, raised my glass, and drank a blend of wine and tears.

I thought about the days when Sebastian stayed away. My mother had been on the thirteenth floor, and his office was on the seventeenth. A ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs would have been enough.

Even so, he never found the time. Not once in twenty days. Not once to see the woman he claimed he wanted to meet during our five years together.

I looked at my coworkers instead. I had only worked there for two years, and we were not especially close. That did not matter. They knew I was leaving to care for my mother, and they responded with generosity.

Sebastian had never even bought my mother a five-dollar towel.

I thought about my train ticket and knew, without doubt, that I had made the right choice.

As the party wound down, I reached for my wallet to pay the bill.

Lily suddenly tugged at my sleeve and whispered, "Maddie, is that Dr. Ross?"

I turned around.

She was right. Sebastian stood there in a sharp gray suit. He cradled Suzanna Locke's puppy in one arm and stroked its fur with the other.