Chapter 2

If I was leaving, I’d leave nothing behind.

I started packing my things in silence. Every item held a memory of Clara and me, tucked away in drawers like artifacts from a life I thought we had.

Maybe I was the only one who thought we were happy.

My eyes passed over shared souvenirs, carefully saved gifts, movie tickets from all our dates.

Once, these things warmed my heart. Now, they felt like shards of glass.

Three months ago, on a cold, fateful night, I came home after weeks on an international rescue op. Exhausted but eager, I was craving the warmth of home and Clara’s embrace.

But when I opened the door, I saw another man in my bed.

I knew him. Nathan Sullivan. Clara’s childhood best friend.

My chest tightened, the betrayal like a punch to the gut.

And Clara’s pregnant belly was the final blow, a hammer of brutal finality.

I didn’t need to ask. The kid wasn’t mine.

“Hey, Luke! You’re back!”

Nathan said, lounging in my pajamas like he owned the place. “Come on in!”

Rage blurred my vision. I lunged at him, fists clenched.

Before I could connect, Clara jumped between us, whacking my back hard with a broom.

“Luke, what the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, shielding Nathan like a lioness. “You touch him, and you’ll regret it!”

Her voice cracked with fake outrage. “Nathan is sick! Kidney failure. I had to give him a child. You have a problem, you take it up with me!”

My love for her shattered right then, into pieces too small to ever fix.

David and Margaret showed up soon after, turning the scene into a circus.

David grabbed my arm, his face red.

“What’s wrong with you?! Can’t you see she’s pregnant? You come home and start a fight? You’re an embarrassment!”

Margaret even started crying.

“This is a tragedy! Luke, why can’t you be understanding? Don’t you see how hard this is for Clara? You’re so selfish!”

They hurled accusations like I was the one who’d betrayed them.

I stood there alone against their tidal wave of hypocrisy, my heart completely numb.

That’s when I knew nothing was left for me here. The next day, I signed up for the international rescue team and buried myself in training.

Now, back in the present, a knock on the door snapped me out of it. Clara stood there, her gaze ice-cold.

“Glad you’ve come around,” she said. “The baby’s done with the postpartum period. Since this is my room, I think Nathan should move in here. It’s practical.”

I searched her eyes for any trace of the woman I once loved.

From the living room, David’s voice boomed.

“This house is in Clara’s name! She decides who stays where. That’s her right!”

The arrogance was almost funny. I listened to their selfish logic, my heart completely empty.

Arguing was pointless. I didn’t care enough anymore.

I picked up my suitcase and headed to the storage room.

It was dark and damp, smelling of mildew.

Surrounded by junk and broken things, I set my suitcase in a corner and sat on it.

The silence was a relief, a haven from the memories. No shared moments, no laughter. Just dark and quiet.

I lit a cigarette, letting the smoke curl around me.

Through the haze, bits of happier times flickered in my mind.

From the living room, their carefree laughter rang out.

“I’m getting the baby a protection charm,” Margaret said. “What should we engrave?”

“How about ‘C&N’? It’s their child, after all!” David suggested lightly.

Clara added, “I think we should use ‘Sullivan’. He’ll take Nathan’s last name.”

I took a deep drag, the smoke burning my throat. I imagined breathing out all the pain in one long, bitter exhale.

The confidentiality rules of the International Rescue Team were like invisible chains, cutting me off from my old life.

As part of my final prep to leave the country, I had one last task—to officially erase myself from the national records.