He Deleted My Name From Every Design. I Deleted Him From My Life. Chapter 04
That night, I packed up everything on my desk.
When I walked out of the architecture firm, I saw a social media post Sophie had uploaded.
The photo showed her at a high-speed rail station.
In the background was Adrian’s silhouette.
The caption read:
“Off to Grand Harbor City with the Principal Architect for an exhibition. The journey ahead feels easier when someone is walking beside you.”
Then Adrian’s message appeared on my screen.
“I’ll be staying in Grand Harbor City for three days. We’ll talk when I get back.”
Talk about what?
The 52 points he gave me.
The studio he gave to Sophie.
The moment he stood in front of everyone and said there was nothing between us.
I blocked his number.
By the time I got home, it was already late at night.
I opened the closet and started putting my things into a suitcase, one item at a time.
When I reached the very back, my fingers touched a brown paper envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a stack of sketch drafts.
Seven years ago, during that summer when we first worked on designs together—
he had stood behind me, guided my hand, and helped me draw a curve.
“You’re really talented,” he had said.
Beside it was another design draft.
On it was a note he had written during our third year together:
This design deserves to be seen.
The next one was a photo from our fifth year together.
It was taken at the architecture firm’s annual celebration.
I stood in the corner.
He stood in the center.
There were seven or eight people between us.
I gathered all the sketches together.
Then I picked up a lighter.
As the flames rose, his handwriting curled, blackened, and disappeared.
The smoke burned my eyes.
I crouched on the balcony and watched the last spark fade away.
The ashes were carried off by the wind.
My phone screen lit up.
A new email.
“Ms. Bennett, congratulations. You have successfully passed your interview. Please report to Westbridge City next Monday to officially begin your new position.”
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I put my phone away and continued packing.
When morning came, I dragged my suitcase out the door.
I left the keys on the entryway table.
Underneath them was a note.
Adrian, this is goodbye.
As the taxi drove away from the neighborhood, Sophie uploaded another social media post.
The photo showed the Grand Harbor City waterfront skyline.
Two cocktails sat side by side on the bar.
The caption read:
“The night is too beautiful to end.”
In the corner of the photo was a hand resting on the counter.
I recognized that hand.
Last year, when he helped me revise a set of drawings, he accidentally burned himself.
I was the one who treated that injury.
I stared at that scar for several seconds.
Then I removed the SIM card from my phone and threw it into a roadside trash can.
When the plane took off, the city outside the window grew smaller and smaller.
The Claire who belonged to that city was gone forever.
