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Only When My Love Was Gone ,Did He Realize His Mistake. Novel Cover

Only When My Love Was Gone ,Did He Realize His Mistake.

Another birthday, another empty chair. After waiting at the restaurant until 10:30 PM for Daniel, his absence is no longer a surprise. But when she scrolls through social media and spots Isabella's latest status update, something fundamental shifts inside her. Instead of the usual heartbreak, she feels absolutely nothing. In that quiet moment of clarity, she realizes the painful truth: her endless patience has run out, and she has finally let go of the love she once held so dear.
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Chapter 1

That night, I waited for Daniel at the restaurant until 10:30, but he still hadn’t shown up.

He had stood me up again.

As I glanced at the Status Update Isabella had posted, I was surprised to find that my heart didn’t stir in the slightest.

In that moment, I realized I had already let go.

...

This restaurant had been reserved by Daniel in advance.

Last month, on Isabella’s birthday, Daniel took her to the beach to watch the sunrise.

I had angrily confronted him about it, but he turned it around, accusing me of being paranoid, saying it was just a group of friends going together, not just the two of them.

Because of that, we stopped talking and ended up in a cold war for half a month.

Yesterday, Daniel sent me a screenshot of the restaurant reservation.

I knew he was trying to ease the tension. After every argument or period of silence between us, I was always the one to break the ice and reach out.

He’d always follow up with a gift or some kind of gesture that would make me forget the previous grievances and fall right back into his arms.

Over the years, our relationship had been a rollercoaster—constantly fluctuating, full of ups and downs.

Sometimes he was distant, other times affectionate, and I had almost no control over it. It was like I was a kite, and he held my emotions in his hands. My happiness, my anger, my sadness—they all seemed to depend on him.

I knew I forgave him too easily, always remembering his kindness and ignoring the hurt he caused. Maybe it was because I loved him too humbly.

But yesterday, when I saw the screenshot of the reservation, I didn’t feel the excitement or joy I used to. In the past, just the fact that he remembered my birthday was enough to make me feel cherished.

After all, every year, I had to remind him several days in advance to get me a gift.

This year, I even forgot my own birthday. I didn’t remind him, and yet, he still remembered on his own.

Yesterday at work, I suddenly realized that today was my birthday.

I texted him back, "Okay, see you at the restaurant tomorrow night."

Then I turned off my phone and got back to work, without the usual sweetness in my heart from his gesture.

After work today, I got a message from Daniel: "See you at the restaurant later."

I arrived early, ahead of our reservation time. The reservation was for 7:00, but I got there at 6:30.

By 8:00, Daniel still hadn’t shown up.

I called, but there was no answer. I sent a message, but got no reply.

At 9:30, the waiter asked if I wanted to start the meal, since the restaurant was closing at 10:30.

I nodded and ate my steak alone, sipping some red wine, until 10:30, when I stood up and walked out of the restaurant.

Standing by the side of the road, waiting for a taxi, I saw Isabella’s Status Update.

She wrote, "You are my sense of security."

The picture was a side profile of Daniel sitting on the sofa.

When I saw that photo, I felt neither anger nor sadness or grievance.

I felt an unusual calm. Instead, there was a quiet satisfaction, as though I already knew the answer.

See, I had known all along that behind every missed appointment, Isabella was always involved.

Strangely, this time, I didn’t feel sad at all.

When I got home, I went straight to bed after washing up.

In the middle of the night, I was woken by the sound of the door opening.

I knew it was Daniel coming back.

Annoyed at being woken up, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to deal with him.

I heard him stop by the bedside, his footsteps remaining still for a long time.

Even with my eyes closed, I could still feel that deep gaze, as if it was staring at me from the darkness.

Had he lost his mind?

Coming back without showering, not even bothering to go to bed, just standing there staring at me?

It was really annoying.

Was he happy because I didn’t turn on the lights and wait for him in the living room, angry and ready to argue?

Was he actually glad that I didn’t explode this time?

After all, every time I had acted hysterically in the past, he would just stand there coldly, his eyes full of impatience and disgust.

His superior gaze made me feel like a clown, and no matter how desperately I struggled, I could never break free.

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