80. Caelia
Kaz has been gonefor a few hours, but that doesn’t mean he does not haunt me just because he’s not here. He lingers in every corner of this place—his belongings, his scent—and the longer I stay, the deeper my heart cracks. I hesitate, questioning my decision. I laugh when I realize that having so much freedom feels suffocating. It’s absurd. Am I making the right choice by abandoning everything to pursue something I believe I want, even if deep down I’m uncertain? I resist the urge to shower, desperate to cling to his lingering scent for as long as possible.
“Are you ready, Mrs. Mordvinova?” Dmitri’s voice breaks through my thoughts as he glances at the two suitcases I’ve packed.
“Do you think I’m making a mistake, Dmitri?” I ask, hoping for some reassurance.
“It’s not my place to answer that question,” he responds, shifting uncomfortably.
He doesn’t need to. The answer is written on his face. I force a smile and stop glaring at the bed in which Kaz fucked me so many times. The bed in which he made love to me countless times, where he whispered all his secrets, trusting me with his life.
“I’m ready,” I say, determined to see this through despite the pain.
I take one last look around, then approach the door. Dmitri follows, carrying my suitcases. I’m tempted to ask Dmitri where Kaz is or to call him and beg him to come back so we can talk, but I resist. My mind is made up, and I need to see this through, even if it kills me.
For the first time, I have a house that’s more than that—a home. And I’m willingly leaving it behind.
Dmitri opens the car door, waiting for me to step inside. The plane awaits us. I still haven’t decided where I want to go. I have no clue.