Her Homecoming Is Our Farewell

After that day, Charlie never showed up again.

Yuliana finally received notification that her visa application had been approved.

There had never been much in the house that belonged to her—just a few sets of clothes to pack.

Looking around the villa where she had spent the last three years, she felt no nostalgia, only the relief of finally being free. She was finally escaping the cage that had trapped her for three long years.

With only a week left before her departure, Charlie never came home. Alyssa, however, filled the void with a daily barrage of provocative texts.

On the first day, she sent a photo of Charlie asleep with his head on her lap, a faint smile on his lips as if he were having a sweet dream.

As Yuliana stared at the photo, she threw every gift she had given Charlie over the years into the trash.

On the third day, Alyssa sent more photos. This time, Charlie was down on one knee, sliding a ring onto Alyssa's finger.

Yuliana slid off her own wedding ring, which Charlie had bought for her after their marriage because everything in their marriage had originally been meant for Alyssa. Even the inner engraving of the ring bore Alyssa's name.

She dropped the ring into the kitchen sink, watching without blinking as the rushing water carried it down the drain.

On the fifth day, Alyssa sent a video of Charlie at a high-end auction, winning a breathtakingly expensive necklace for her, leaving the entire crowd stunned.

Unfazed, Yuliana packed up every gift he had given her during their marriage and donated them all.

It took her just seven days to erase every trace of her three-year existence in that house. Perhaps it was because this villa had never truly been her "home".

When the housekeeper, Mila Dixon, saw Yuliana carrying out the last of her things, she grew worried and approached Yuliana to ask what was going on.

Yuliana offered a faint smile. "Nothing major. We're just getting a divorce."

Mila was shocked. "Does Mr. Zimmer agree to this?"

Yuliana had no answer. Charlie hadn't even looked at the divorce papers yet, but she could tell that once he finally did, he would likely feel relieved—or even pleased.

Their marriage had been nothing more than a mistake born of youthful impulse. Without her standing in the way, his relationship with Alyssa would only grow closer.

After all, Alyssa was the only one he ever saw and the only one who had ever existed in his heart.

On the final day, Yuliana deleted the contact information for Charlie, Alyssa, and everyone connected to them, bidding a permanent farewell to her past.

On the day she left, delicate, light snow sifted down from the sky.

Yuliana carried the box filled with love letters she had written to Charlie over the years but never dared to send, along with diaries filled with his name, out into the courtyard.

She burned her love for Charlie into ash, and in the rising smoke, her younger self drifted away.

As snowflakes drifted down onto her shoulders, she wondered how long it would take for the snow to cover the charred remnants of her past.

Lost in thought, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching from behind.

"What are you doing out here?" Charlie's voice rang out behind her.

Yuliana turned and saw him standing there, a suitcase in hand.

She stepped slightly closer to the burning letters, keeping her expression natural as she said, "Nothing. Just burning some trash."

The sight of the pink envelopes made Charlie's thoughts flash back to Bella's speech at the wedding.

The irritation he had been harboring all week ebbed away, replaced by a dull, unidentifiable ache in his chest. Yet, he didn't realize what that strange feeling meant.

"I'm buried in work, so I won't be back for a few days," he said. "When I get a chance, let's sit down and have a proper talk."

Talk? There was nothing left between them to discuss other than divorce.

Yuliana shook her head. "No need. I told you everything you wanted to know a month ago."

A month ago? Had she said something back then?

Charlie opened his mouth to ask, but his phone buzzed. As he heard the voice on the other end, his expression softened, and a hint of a smile touched his lips.

Meanwhile, the fire consumed the last scrap of paper, leaving nothing but cooling ash.

By the time he hung up, the question had already slipped his mind.

Yuliana walked him to his car.

A sudden gust of wind scattered the ashes, whisking them away across the yard. Charlie noticed how thinly she was dressed and urged her to go inside before she caught a cold.

The engine hummed to life. Through the car window, Charlie saw Yuliana's lips move. He didn't hear her, but he assumed it was the usual "drive safe" or "take care" and didn't give it another thought.

Only when his taillights disappeared from view did Yuliana pull her shawl tight. She returned to her room, grabbed her suitcase, and walked out the door for the last time.

The snow fell harder now, a white shroud trying to bury the wreckage of her youth.

As her plane lifted off, Yuliana took one last look at the city that had held 20 years of her life. Softly, she repeated the words he hadn't stayed to hear, "Goodbye for good, Charlie."