At 5:36 that afternoon, I signed the final transfer document.

The department head stamped it, checked the date once more, and looked at me over his glasses.

“Dr. Miller, the medical team leaves Friday at six in the morning.”

Friday.

Three days away.

I nodded.

“I’ll be ready.”

“You understand that communication will be limited?”

“Yes.”

“The nearest airport is several hours from the field hospital.”

“Even better.”

He studied me for a moment.

Perhaps he wanted to ask whether I was running away.

I wasn’t.

Running away meant leaving because you were afraid.

I was leaving because I had finally stopped being afraid to choose a life without Ethan.

When I returned to my office, Amanda was waiting.

She had brought two coffees and the expression of someone preparing to commit a felony.

“I still think I should slap him.”

I took the coffee.

“You’ll ruin your manicure.”

“I’ll sacrifice it.”

Despite everything, I laughed.

Amanda’s face softened.

“You’re really going.”

“Yes.”

“And Ethan still doesn’t know?”

“No.”

“Good.”

She sat on my desk.

“Let him arrive at the marriage registry tomorrow and stand there holding his precious documents.”

I shook my head.

“He canceled tomorrow.”

“Right. Because Clara was emotionally unwell.”

Amanda rolled her eyes.

“Apparently emotional instability is contagious because Ethan has been suffering from stupidity for years.”

Before I could answer, my office door opened.

Ethan stood there.

Alone.

No Clara.

No arrogance.

And no expression I could immediately recognize.

His eyes went first to Amanda.

Then to the cardboard box beside my desk.

Then to the transfer documents in my hand.

“What is that?”

Amanda smiled sweetly.

“I’ll give you two privacy.”

As she passed him, she added:

“Try not to cancel this conversation because Clara sneezes.”

“Amanda.”

I stopped her before things escalated.

She left.

Ethan closed the door.

“What transfer?”

I put the papers into a folder.

“Work.”

“To where?”

“A medical assignment.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough.”

His brows pulled together.

“You’re seriously doing this because of what happened yesterday?”

I looked at him.

“What happened yesterday?”

He stared as though I were deliberately provoking him.

“Clara had a crisis.”

“And?”

“And I had to help her.”

“You did.”

“I told you we could register later.”

“You did.”

His irritation grew with every agreement.

Finally, he stepped closer.

“Then why are you acting like I abandoned you?”

I almost smiled.

Because that was Ethan’s problem.

He thought abandonment only counted if someone physically walked away.

He didn’t understand that a person could abandon you while sleeping beside you every night.

“I’m not acting like anything.”

I picked up my bag.

“I have rounds.”

He blocked the door.

“Did you cancel the wedding?”

I stopped.

So he knew.

“Yes.”

His face tightened.

“Without discussing it with me?”

That almost made me laugh.

“You canceled our legal registration the night before it happened.”

“That was temporary.”

“The wedding wasn’t.”

“Sofia.”

His voice softened.

That voice had worked on me for years.

“Don’t make a permanent decision because you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

That was what frightened him.

I could see it.

“If you were angry, I could understand this.”

He searched my face.

“But you’re acting like…”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t care.”

I thought about it.

Then answered honestly.

“I’m getting there.”

Something in his expression cracked.

For several seconds, Ethan said nothing.

Then his phone vibrated.

We both looked down.

Clara.

Of course.

He declined the call.

That surprised me.

It immediately rang again.

He declined it again.

“Sofia, look at me.”

“I am.”

“I know I handled yesterday badly.”

Yesterday.

As though Clara had appeared only yesterday.

Not at birthdays.

Not during vacations.

Not during dinners.

Not every time Ethan and I tried to build something that belonged only to us.

“She’s going through a difficult period.”

“She always is.”

“She doesn’t have many people.”

“She has you.”

His jaw tightened.

“You’re making it sound inappropriate.”

“I don’t need to make it sound like anything.”

I opened the door.

“You’ve made your choice repeatedly. I’m simply respecting it.”

He caught my arm.

Not painfully.

Desperately.

“Are you ending this?”

I looked down at his hand.

He released me.

“You ended it.”

“I postponed the registration.”

“You chose another woman the night before we were supposed to become legally married.”

His face changed.

“That’s not fair.”

“No, Ethan.”

I stepped into the hallway.

“It’s just finally accurate.”

I left him standing there.

That night I returned to the apartment for the last time.

Ethan wasn’t home.

I packed the remaining clothes, removed my medical books from the shelves, and placed the engagement ring on the kitchen counter.

Beside it, I left the unopened anniversary gift I had bought him months earlier.

No letter.

No explanation.

No goodbye.

At 11:20, I carried my suitcase downstairs.

My phone rang.

Ethan.

I watched it until the call ended.

Then another message appeared.

Where are you?

I didn’t answer.

A second arrived.

Clara says you upset her at the hospital. We need to talk about what happened.

I stared at the screen.

Even now.

Clara first.

I blocked his number.

Friday morning arrived cold and gray.

The medical team gathered behind the hospital, loading equipment into two buses.

Amanda hugged me so tightly I nearly lost my balance.

“You call me whenever you get signal.”

“I will.”

“And if you meet some handsome doctor—”

“Amanda.”

“What? Healing has many forms.”

I laughed.

Then someone shouted my name.

“Sofia!”

Every muscle in my body went still.

Ethan was running across the parking lot.

His hair was disordered.

His shirt wasn’t properly buttoned at the collar.

I had never seen him look like that.

He stopped several feet away, breathing hard.

“What is this?”

I said nothing.

He looked at the buses.

The medical crates.

My suitcase.

Then at me.

“You’re really leaving.”

“Yes.”

“You blocked me.”

“Yes.”

“I went home last night.”

His voice dropped.

“Everything was gone.”

“Not everything.”

I had left him the apartment.

The furniture.

The ring.

The life he had repeatedly chosen over me.

Ethan’s eyes reddened.

“You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“You didn’t say goodbye when you left to spend the night with Clara.”

His face tightened.

“That isn’t the same.”

“It is to me.”

Behind us, the driver announced five minutes until departure.

Ethan stepped closer.

“Don’t go.”

Those two words came too late.

“Why?”

“We can fix this.”

I stared at him.

“Can you stop choosing Clara?”

Silence.

There it was.

Even now, he couldn’t answer immediately.

And I no longer needed him to.

I turned toward the bus.

Then Ethan said:

“Clara is leaving too.”

I stopped.

I looked back.

“What?”

His expression was strange.

“She disappeared last night.”

Something cold moved through me.

“She left her apartment empty.”

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“I thought so too.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope.

“But then I found this in her room.”

My name was written across the front.

SOFIA MILLER.

The handwriting wasn’t Clara’s.

I recognized it immediately.

It belonged to Ethan’s mother.

My pulse changed.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know.”

He held it out.

“She had it hidden with documents from six years ago.”

I took the envelope.

Inside was a photograph.

Ethan.

Clara.

And me.

Taken outside my medical school graduation.

But someone had drawn a red circle around Clara.

On the back was a sentence.

If Sofia learns why Clara was brought into Ethan’s life, the marriage must never happen.

My fingers went cold.

I looked up.

Ethan had gone pale.

And behind him, at the hospital entrance, a woman stood watching us.

His mother.

She didn’t look surprised that I was leaving.

She looked terrified that I was holding the envelope.