Our Separated Ways

"Bianca, did you put the watch I gave you up for bid?"

I smiled lightly, and lied without hesitation.

"That wasn't my watch. Didn't Candice and her husband get a matching set, too? She wants to switch to a new one, so she asked me to help sell hers."

Lars stood there for a few seconds, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "Really? For a dollar?"

Then, his tone softened.

"Bianca, I know I've neglected you lately." He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out for me. "If you're upset, just tell me. Don't bottle it all up and stress yourself, okay?"

"Alright," I said.

"After my mom passed away last year, you're all I have left." His voice was low. "Trust me. No matter what happens… You've always been the most important person to me."

I leaned against him in his arms, catching a faint whiff of rose scent on his jacket.

"It's late. I want to sleep," I whispered.

"Let me hold you a little longer," he said. "Is something bothering you lately? Just give me a few more days. Once things settle down, we can talk."

Yeah, right.

He had been busy lining up for cakes, planning birthday surprises, filling trunks with pink roses, and making Pearl happy without me noticing. True, he was quite busy indeed.

Lars looked at me, brushing the corner of my eye. "Why are your eyes red? Were you just crying?"

I was about to answer, but his phone rang.

Lars let go and turned away to answer it, frowning as he walked out. At that moment, every bit of tenderness disappeared from his face.

I remained where I was and called his name:

"Lars."

Yet, he didn't even look back.

I got up and walked to the window, watched as he hurried downstairs and drove away, his last words still echoing in my ears:

"You've always been the most important person to me."

I didn't need those words anymore.

With a marker, I drew a line across the calendar. Tomorrow was his birthday. It would also be my last night in Eastwind City.

I had already ordered a birthday cake for him. We had spent so many years together, after all.

I shredded our photos on the wall into pieces and threw them in the bin. From now on, this place had nothing to do with me anymore.

Maybe it was because I had missed my meds for days, but I was awoken by my stomach pains early the next morning.

My thoughts went back to the first year we started the company… Just the two of us, and less than two thousand in the bank. To survive, Lars helped me chase clients, and I pulled all-nighters with him. We split hamburgers, and I was drinking for him at parties.

Later, to secure a round of funding, I drank through three parties in a row and ended up with a gastric perforation. The doctor rebuked him right outside my hospital room. Lars sat by my bed, a six-foot-tall man like him, crying like a boy who got into trouble.

"I'm sorry for not being good enough. Staying with me made you suffer," he said.

"I'll never let you down as long as I'm alive," he promised.

How laughable.

I curled up on the sofa, cold sweat soaking my back. I took out my phone and dialed his number. No answer. I called twice more—still nothing.

At exactly ten, Candice called.

"Bianca, he didn't show up at the office again! The paperwork's piling up, and the financing deal is still waiting on his signature. If he disappears again, the company's done for!" she cried.

Rubbing my aching stomach, I answered with a distracted hum.

"And…" Her voice sped up, "I just heard Royce Farrell, the CEO of Radar Finance, is having his wedding next week in Botolph City. If Lars wants to get the company listed smoothly, he must show up and make an appearance. Otherwise, it's all over!"

I froze.

"Wait," I said, my voice hoarse. "Who?"

"Don't you know? Royce Farrell, the CEO of Radar Finance? If the Farrells give the nod, it's almost a guarantee for our company to get listed!"