The next morning, Gabriel knocked on my bedroom door at eight forty-five.

—Sofía, get ready. We’ll be late for the registry.

I was already awake.

My suitcase was hidden inside the wardrobe, half packed.

My passport lay beneath a stack of restoration books.

I looked at the clock.

Our appointment had been scheduled for nine.

—I’m not feeling well.

Gabriel sighed outside the door.

—Seriously? Today?

There was no concern in his voice.

Only irritation.

How appropriate.

I opened the door.

He was already dressed in the navy suit we had chosen together two weeks earlier.

For one stupid second, I remembered how handsome I had thought he would look standing beside me while we signed our marriage certificate.

Now he simply looked like a man dressed for an appointment that no longer existed.

—Where’s Camila?

—Sleeping.

Of course.

—Her ankle still hurts.

—Then stay with her.

Gabriel frowned.

—Sofía, stop acting childish. We have somewhere to be.

His phone rang.

Camila.

He answered immediately.

—What’s wrong?

His expression softened.

Then he rushed toward the guest room.

I almost laughed.

Five minutes later, he returned.

—Camila feels dizzy. I’ll take her to the clinic first.

—Okay.

He blinked.

Apparently he’d expected a fight.

—We’ll go to the registry afterward.

—Okay.

He stared at me suspiciously.

—You’re not angry?

—Why would I be?

Something about my calmness unsettled him.

But Camila called again.

And just like that, he left.

At nine fifteen, my phone rang.

Gabriel.

—Sofía, where are you?

I was sitting at the dining table, carefully wrapping my restoration tools.

—Home.

—They can’t find our appointment.

I remained silent.

Then he asked:

—Did you change something?

—Yes.

A pause.

—What did you do?

—I canceled it.

Silence.

Complete silence.

For the first time in five years, Gabriel had nothing to say.

Then his voice hardened.

—You’re joking.

—No.

—Because of last night?

—No.

—Then why?

I looked toward the kitchen.

The soup pot was still there.

The soup I’d made for what was supposed to be our last unmarried dinner.

—Because you were right.

—About what?

—If I can’t accept these small things, the marriage isn’t necessary.

He inhaled sharply.

—Sofía, don’t twist my words.

—I didn’t.

—Reschedule it.

—No.

Another silence.

Then he laughed coldly.

—Fine. When you calm down, call me.

He hung up.

He still thought I was throwing a tantrum.

That was Gabriel’s greatest mistake.

He believed every boundary I drew was merely the beginning of another negotiation.

Because for five years, eventually, I always gave in.

That afternoon I resigned from the restoration studio where I worked.

My director hugged me after hearing about Saint Lucia.

—You should have accepted the first time.

I smiled.

—I know.

Then I went to the bank.

The apartment belonged to Gabriel, but nearly everything inside it had been purchased by me.

I didn’t take much.

My books.

Clothes.

Grandmother’s jewelry box.

My restoration instruments.

A framed photograph of my parents.

Everything else could stay.

At six, Gabriel returned.

Camila was with him again.

She wasn’t limping nearly as badly.

I noticed.

Gabriel didn’t.

He saw the suitcase near the entrance.

His expression finally changed.

—What’s that?

—Mine.

Camila looked between us.

—Are you traveling?

—Yes.

—Where?

—Saint Lucia.

Gabriel froze.

He knew exactly what that meant.

—That restoration project?

—Yes.

—You rejected it.

—I changed my mind.

He walked toward me.

—For how long?

—At least one year.

His face hardened.

—You’re going abroad for a year because I missed one registry appointment?

I almost admired how effortlessly he could rewrite reality.

—I didn’t leave because you missed the appointment.

—Then because of the contact name?

—No.

—Camila?

Camila immediately raised both hands.

—Please don’t fight because of me.

I looked at her.

—We’re not.

Then I looked at Gabriel.

—I’m leaving because five years ago, I started becoming someone I don’t recognize.

He frowned.

I continued.

—I stopped accepting projects because you said long-distance relationships were inconvenient.

—We were planning a future.

—I stopped seeing friends you disliked.

—Those people didn’t respect our relationship.

—I moved closer to your office.

—That benefited both of us.

—I spent every holiday with your family.

—Sofía—

—And every time I needed you, somehow I was asking too much.

His mouth closed.

I pointed toward his phone.

—You didn’t save me as “annoyance” by accident.

His eyes flickered.

—It was a joke.

—Jokes are funny.

For once, he had no answer.

Camila touched his arm.

—Gabi, maybe I should leave.

Gabriel immediately turned toward her.

—Your ankle—

That tiny reflex answered everything.

Even now.

Even during the conversation that was ending our five-year relationship, part of his attention remained reserved for her.

I picked up my suitcase.

Gabriel blocked the door.

—You’re not leaving like this.

—Move.

—We can talk when you’re calmer.

—I am calm.

That frightened him.

I could see it.

He lowered his voice.

—Sofía, we’ve been together five years.

—Exactly.

—And you’re throwing that away?

I looked at him.

—No.

I smiled faintly.

—I’m finally admitting you threw it away a little at a time.

His face went pale.

Then Camila suddenly spoke.

—Maybe this is my fault.

I looked at her.

Her eyes were wet.

—Sofía, Gabriel and I aren’t what you think.

—I didn’t say you were.

She hesitated.

—Then why are you leaving?

That question surprised me.

Because she genuinely seemed unable to understand.

So I answered honestly.

—Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life competing for basic kindness.

Nobody spoke.

I walked around Gabriel.

This time, he didn’t stop me.

For the next two days, he barely contacted me.

One message arrived.

“When you’re done being dramatic, tell me.”

I didn’t answer.

The second came the night before my flight.

“Mom wants to know when we’re rescheduling the registration.”

I replied:

“We aren’t.”

He called immediately.

I declined.

At the airport, Professor Laurent was waiting with the restoration team.

For the first time in days, I breathed normally.

Then someone shouted my name.

—SOFÍA!

I turned.

Gabriel was running through the terminal.

His shirt was wrinkled.

His hair was messy.

I had never seen him look so uncontrolled.

He stopped in front of me.

—Don’t go.

Everyone around us became quiet.

I stared at him.

—Why?

His chest rose and fell.

—Because we’re getting married.

—No, Gabriel.

His face changed.

Perhaps that was the moment he finally understood.

This wasn’t punishment.

I wasn’t waiting for him to apologize correctly.

I was finished.

—Sofía—

—Goodbye.

I turned toward security.

Then he grabbed my suitcase handle.

—Wait.

Professor Laurent stepped forward, but I raised my hand.

Gabriel pulled something from his pocket.

His phone.

He opened his contacts.

My name was no longer “Annoyance.”

Now it said:

“My future wife.”

He held it toward me as though he’d repaired something.

I stared at the screen.

Then I laughed softly.

—You’re still doing it.

—Doing what?

—Deciding what I am without asking me.

His hand slowly lowered.

I walked away.

Three hours later, my plane took off.

I thought that was the end.

I was wrong.

Because when I landed in Saint Lucia, I had seventeen missed calls.

Not from Gabriel.

From his mother.

And one message.

“Sofía, please call me before you speak to Gabriel. There is something about Camila you need to know.”

Attached was a photograph.

Gabriel and Camila.

Taken four years earlier.

Long before Gabriel had ever told me they were “just childhood friends.”

And Camila was wearing an engagement ring.