Ch. Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 28 Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 28

Chapter 7 

Chapter 7 

Sean had called over eighty times. 

The rest were from his mom, his relatives, and some mutual friends. 

Sean’s mom’s voice messages went from angry to accusatory to almost tearful by the end. 

“Nora, come back. Let’s talk this through.” 

“What you posted-how is Sean supposed to show his face now?” 

“Emma hasn’t eaten in two days. Can’t you be the bigger person?” 

I didn’t reply to any of them. 

I scrolled down and saw Sean’s most recent texts. 

Sent an hour ago. 

“Nora, pick up.” 

“We need to talk.” 

“Just five minutes.” 

The second I finished reading, his call came through. 

He’d been calling this whole time. 

I answered. Didn’t say anything. 

Two seconds of silence. Then Sean’s voice came through, hoarse. 

“You finally picked up.” 

I didn’t respond. 

He took a deep breath. His tone was stiff, like he was forcing himself to sound calm. 

“Nora, can we just talk? Calmly?” 

Chapter 7 

“Go ahead.” 

He seemed caught off guard by how direct I was. He hesitated before speaking. 

“About the post. I know you’re angry. But what you did was too extreme.” 

“Everyone’s asking me about it now. Emma’s getting torn apart online.” 

“She’s just like a sister to me. Why drag her into this?” 

I walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. 

Opened it. Took a sip. 

Then I said: 

“Sean, do you remember that hiking trip? The one with Emma. Three years into our relationship.” 

Silence on the other end. Like he was trying to remember. 

“It started pouring. We couldn’t get to shelter in time. We all got soaked.” 

“I was wearing a light-colored shirt. It was practically see-through when it got wet. My hair was plastered to my face. My makeup ran. I looked awful.” 

“Emma pulled out her phone and took a picture of me.” 

“I told her to delete it right then. She said okay. Then she posted it anyway.” 

“I asked her to take it down. But you refused for her.” 

I paused. Then I repeated his exact words from that day: 

“You said, ‘It’s just a photo. Emma thought it was funny. She didn’t mean anything by it. Don’t make a big deal out of it. You’ll embarrass yourself.” 

The sunlight outside was harsh. I squinted. 

“So you see, you’re not clueless. You know some posts can humiliate people.” 

“You just never thought my humiliation mattered.” 

Sean’s breathing got heavier on the other end. 

“So this is revenge? Against me and Emma?” 

Chapter 7 

“Nora, haven’t I been good to you these past five years? What have you ever wanted that I didn’t give you?” 

I finally laughed. 

“I wanted you to come with me to try on wedding dresses. Did you?” 

“I wanted you to remember I’m allergic to seafood and almond. Did you?” 

“I wanted you not to go running with another woman on our wedding day. Did you listen?” 

“Sean, all you ever gave me was dismissiveness. Neglect. And ‘stop’ over and over again.” 

“Your love. Your patience. Your time. Your kindness. You gave it all to Emma.” 

“All I got was an auto-reply program.” 

I said it all in one breath. And the weight I’d been carrying in my chest for five years suddenly lifted. 

Sean didn’t say anything for a long time. 

So long I thought he’d hung up. 

Then he spoke again. His voice was quieter now. There was a hint of panic in it. Almost hard to catch. 

“Those things… I messed up.” 

“I’ll change. Okay?” 

“Delete the post. Come back. We’ll start over.” 

“I promise. It won’t happen again.” 

“I won’t use the AI anymore. I’ll come home every day. I’ll do whatever you want to do.” 

“The morning runs… I can run with you instead. You always wanted to take walks, right? We’ll go every day.” 

“We can redo the wedding. However you want it. I’ll plan everything. Okay?” 

If I’d heard these words six months ago, I probably would’ve cried from happiness. 

But now? I just found it ridiculous. 

“Sean, you still don’t get it.” 

“I don’t want it anymore.” 

Chapter 7 

“Your promises. Your future plans. Any of it. I don’t want it.” 

“There won’t be another wedding. I’m not coming back.” 

“We’re done.” 

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