My Ex-Husband Regrets After I Left

A Home That Was No Longer the Same

The sound of a suitcase zipper echoed from upstairs once again.

Once.

Then again.

In the silent living room, Arkana lifted his head. His gaze settled on the staircase while his fingers still held the wedding ring Aurelia had removed only minutes earlier.

"Aurelia..."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

There was no answer.

For a moment, Arkana almost walked upstairs.

But he stopped himself.

He let out a long breath and lowered his eyes to the ring resting in his palm.

"She's just angry."

The words sounded more like an attempt to convince himself.

Every married couple argued from time to time, didn't they?

Hadn't they gone through silent days before, only to make up afterward?

This time would be no different.

Aurelia just needed some time.

By tomorrow morning, everything would return to normal.

Holding onto that belief, Arkana placed the ring back on the marble table. The faint clink of metal against stone only made the tightness in his chest grow worse, though he refused to admit it.

Inside the master bedroom, Aurelia stood quietly in front of the wardrobe.

Its doors stood wide open.

The dresses Arkana had once chosen for her still hung neatly inside. Winter coats, knitted scarves, and several handbags he had given her filled the shelves.

For the past year, this room had witnessed their married life.

Every morning, Aurelia took Arkana's suit from that wardrobe, carefully ironed it, then prepared breakfast before he left for work.

Every evening, she waited for him to come home, even though dinner often grew cold because of his long hours at the office.

Not once had she complained.

To her, a home was never just a place to live.

A home was where someone waited for the person they loved to return.

Aurelia pulled a medium-sized suitcase from the corner of the room.

She slowly laid it open on the bed.

Then she began folding her clothes, one piece at a time.

Her hands moved steadily.

Without haste.

Without trembling.

As though she had already cried every tear she had left.

When she reached for a cream-colored knitted scarf, her hands suddenly froze.

Her mind drifted back to their first winter after they were married.

Snow had fallen heavily that day.

They had walked hand in hand through Central Park.

Without warning, Arkana stopped in front of a small shop.

"Come inside for a minute."

"What is it?"

"You're cold."

"I'm fine."

"Your hands are freezing."

Without waiting for an answer, Arkana bought the scarf.

He wrapped it around Aurelia's neck himself.

"Next time, don't be so stubborn."

Aurelia laughed softly.

"If I get sick, who's going to have to take care of me?"

"I will."

His answer had come without a second's hesitation.

"So don't get sick."

That memory had once been one of the happiest moments of Aurelia's life.

Now, it had become one of the most painful.

With a bitter smile, she folded the scarf and placed it inside the suitcase.

Then she opened the vanity drawer.

A small photo album was still tucked away inside.

The first photograph was from their wedding day.

Arkana was holding her hand tightly at the altar.

His eyes had been filled with certainty, as though he would protect her for the rest of her life.

Each page that followed captured simple moments of happiness.

They cooked together and accidentally burned dinner.

They laughed when Arkana mistakenly added salt to the pancake batter.

They celebrated Arkana's first birthday as a married couple with nothing more than a small piece of cake.

That day, Arkana had smiled and said,

"As long as you made it, it'll taste good."

Aurelia slowly closed the album.

Those once joyful moments had become painful memories.

They had once been enough to make her smile.

Today, they left nothing but wounds.

She placed the album into the suitcase.

Then came a few clothes, her personal documents, several books, and the belongings that truly belonged to her.

She didn't take much.

Most of the things in the house had been purchased together with Arkana.

She didn't want to take anything that was no longer part of her life.

Downstairs, Arkana still sat alone in the living room.

His eyes repeatedly drifted toward the staircase.

He heard the wardrobe doors opening.

The soft scrape of hangers sliding across the rail.

The growing weight of a suitcase being filled.

Each sound made him increasingly uneasy.

Yet his pride remained stronger than his anxiety.

He still believed Aurelia was only venting her anger.

She would come back.

Sooner or later.

Meanwhile, in her apartment, Selena sat comfortably on the sofa, sipping a cup of hot tea.

Her phone chimed.

A message had arrived from a close friend.

**How are things going?**

A faint smile spread across Selena's lips.

**Very well.**

**Looks like they're really getting divorced.**

She sent the reply without the slightest trace of guilt.

The corners of her lips curled even higher.

As long as Arkana continued to trust her, she had nothing to fear.

Nearly an hour passed.

At last, the sound of the suitcase zipper stopped.

Silence settled over the penthouse once again.

Arkana finally stood.

He climbed the stairs slowly.

When he reached the master bedroom, he knocked on the door.

"Aurelia."

No answer.

He opened the door.

His steps came to an abrupt halt.

The wardrobe that had once been full was now half empty.

The shelves that had held Aurelia's handbags were noticeably bare.

Several framed photographs that had decorated the bedside table were gone.

Beside the bed, Aurelia had just locked her gray suitcase.

Click.

The sound of the latch echoed clearly through the room.

"You really packed your things?" Arkana asked.

"Yes."

"Are you staying at a friend's place for a few days?"

Aurelia slowly shook her head.

"Aurelia."

Arkana let out a long sigh.

"There's no need to take this so far. I know you're angry. Go if it'll help you calm down. I'll treat this as a moment of anger. Tomorrow or the day after, when you've cooled off, we can talk again."

Aurelia looked at him for a long moment.

The eyes that had once been filled with love now felt unbearably distant.

At last, she understood.

Even now, until the very end, Arkana still believed this was nothing more than an empty threat.

Yet she had made this decision with everything that remained of her heart.

Aurelia wrapped her hand around the suitcase handle.

Then she walked toward the door.

As she passed Arkana, she stopped.

But she did not turn around.

Her voice was quiet.

Very quiet.

Yet clear enough to shatter the silence of the house.

"I have never taken my decisions lightly."

She drew a short breath.

"I'm leaving."

There was no anger.

No tears.

It was precisely that calmness that made her words so much more painful.

The suitcase wheels rolled across the marble floor.

Their soft rumble echoed through the penthouse hallway.

Aurelia kept walking.

She never looked back.

The front door opened.

The cold New York night air drifted into the house.

A few seconds later...

The door slowly closed.

Arkana remained where he was.

He didn't chase after her.

He didn't try to stop her.

In his mind, Aurelia was simply venting her anger.

He was certain that, sooner or later, his wife would come back, just as she always had.

He had no idea that the sound of the closing door was not the beginning of a temporary separation.

It was the beginning of the greatest loss of his life.

**To be continued...**