I returned our home while he toured with her novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“Ms. Marlow, a package for you.”

The receptionist at my new job carried over a cardboard box. Return address: old

my

city. Sender: Kyler Reed. I hesitated, then opened it.

On top, a document folder. Inside, a formal agreement to dissolve the engagement. On the last page, his signature sat on the right. The ink was heavy, like he’d pressed down hard. Dated three days ago.

Beneath the folder, a few things. My renovation journal, wrapped in bubble wrap, with a card tucked inside. [Returning this to you. It holds four months of your heart and work. I have

no right to keep it.]

Under the journal, the fridge magnets. He hadn’t thrown them away, he’d sent them back. Another note: [These magnets were everything you got in five years. I have no right to throw

them out. They’re yours.]

At the very bottom, one more thing. A new fridge magnet. Not Mount Fuji. A landmark I didn’t recognize-the skyline of my new city printed on the back. The note read: [This is where you are now. I bought it at the airport. Seraphina didn’t help me pick it. I chose it myself. First

time.]

I held that magnet for a long time.

My phone rang-my mom.

“Wren, Kyler came to the house.”

“What for?”

“Brought some things for your dad. Said he wanted to apologize. Stood outside the door

for ages. Your dad wouldn’t let him in.”

“Did he leave?”

“He did. Before he went, he said something to me.”

“What?”

“He said, ‘Mrs. Marlow, I’m sorry. I didn’t treat her right.” My mom’s voice wavered. “Wren,

Chapter 10

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do you really not want him anymore?”

“Mom, it’s not that I don’t want him. He didn’t want me first. He chose Seraphina for five

years. I waited five years. I’m done waiting.”

“Then take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

I hung up. My phone lit up again. Kyler.

[The agreement’s signed. Mailed it to you.]

[Sent some other things. If you don’t want them, throw them out.]

[Take care of yourself.]

And the last one: [I deleted the ‘Tokyo Snow’ album. There won’t be a sixth winter.]

I stood outside my office building, staring at that message for a long time. The wind blew, and for a second, the words on the screen blurred. It wasn’t the wind.

I wiped the corner of my eye, typed a few words, then deleted them. Finally, I sent two.

[Got it.]

I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked toward my apartment. Passed a flower shop, went in and bought a bouquet of balloon flowers. He never knew I loved them. He didn’t

need to know now.

Back home, I put the flowers in a vase. I stuck the new fridge magnet on the refrigerator.

Not the five from Mount Fuji, the one from this new city. The first one he picked himself. And

the last.

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