The Art of Not Missing You

The plane taxied slowly down the runway, and I forced myself to close my eyes, hoping for some rest.

But my mind kept replaying the moment I had opened Ethan Foster’s safe while I was clearing out the last of my things.

After we officially became a couple, I had put my heart into crafting a pair of couple rings for us.

Ethan refused to wear the ring, though, and hid it in his safe, setting a password I didn’t know. He told me it would become our wedding rings once we got married.

Back then, I desperately wanted to open that safe. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t crack the code, until I used the date of the concert, Olivia Summers’ birthday, and the safe clicked open.

Inside, there were no couple rings, no trace of the future I had imagined. Instead, there were carefully preserved photos and a diary.

The photos were of an eighteen-year-old Ethan and Olivia, smiling at each other. Even though they were faded with time, the love between them was undeniable.

The diary was filled with entries about their passionate love story. But after Olivia left without a word, the pages turned into a desperate longing, a love unfulfilled.

No wonder their romance rekindled so fiercely when they reunited.

As for the couple rings I made? They were probably long gone, discarded like all the other remnants of their past.

Had I known he’d thrown them away, I wouldn’t have bothered opening the safe to peek into his sweet history with Olivia.

And I wouldn’t have had to see how much he still yearned for her, even while he was with me.

They were truly a perfect match, Olivia vanished without a breakup, and Ethan never bothered to end things with me before running back to her.

I loved him with all my heart for five years, only to realize I was just a distraction, something to fill the time.

Drowsiness began to settle in, blurring my thoughts. I couldn’t even tell anymore if the Ethan who once doted on me had ever been real.

If he didn’t love me, why did he take on all the household chores, so I wouldn’t get too tired?

If he didn’t love me, why did he nervously sweat whenever Uncle Jack called, urging me to return to the capital, swallowing his pride to beg me not to leave him?

If he didn’t love me, why did he plan our future together, two kids, a cat, a dog, even picking out names?

…

But if he loved me, how could he walk away so easily, with no real goodbye, straight into Olivia’s arms?

If he loved me, he wouldn’t have let my colleagues label me the other woman, denying me even the basic trust I deserved.

But dwelling on this was pointless now.

The moment I agreed to Uncle Jack’s arranged marriage, Ethan and I were no longer in the same world.

When the plane finally landed, Uncle Jack and my mother were already waiting.

“Sophia, I’ve missed you so much!” Mom pulled me into a tight hug. “What’s so great about the south? All that rain and humidity, you’ve never had the best health, and yet you insisted on staying there all these years!”

“Sis, you should’ve never let her study down there,” Uncle Jack added, shaking his head. “If it weren’t for my connections, who knows how much trouble she would’ve faced?”

Then, mentioning Ethan, he turned to me. “Did he say anything when you resigned to come back for the marriage? He’s praised you to me more than once, said you were a rare talent…”

“He was just being polite because of you, Uncle. Don’t take it seriously.”

But Uncle Jack shook his head again. “I know him better than you do. He doesn’t give praise lightly, his standards are ruthless! I wonder who’ll ever catch his eye now. Back in the day…”

So everyone knew that Olivia was Ethan’s unforgettable first love.

And there I was, the fool, carrying on a five-year secret affair, allowing myself to be torn apart, until there was nothing left.