Where Love Could Not Follow

Chapter 4

The evening wind howled, stinging my cheeks.

Cars raced past on the overpass. Not one stopped for me.

I had no phone and no wallet.

Alone, I had been abandoned on that freezing road.

I slowly straightened and began walking along the guardrail, one step at a time, until I found my way down.

I had already given up on Gavin the moment I saw him tangled up with Brielle.

By the time I finally walked home, night had fallen.

When I opened the door, Gavin was already there.

The moment he saw me, he rushed over and wrapped me tightly in his arms, his voice frantic with worry. "Ellie, where have you been? Why are you back so late? I was worried sick. I looked everywhere for you!"

In his arms, all I felt was bottomless absurdity and disgust.

I gently pushed him away, walked to the coffee table, and picked up the divorce agreement I had printed in advance.

I flipped straight to the last page and pointed to the signature line. "Sign it."

Gavin glanced at the document without bothering to read it. "Which house have you set your heart on this time? If you want it, buy it. You don't have to ask me. Spend as much of my money as you like. Everything I have is yours."

His words sent a bitter ripple of mockery through me.

My mother died when I was 3. After my stepmother moved in, I lived at the mercy of someone else's household and was treated worse than their pets.

For as long as I could remember, my greatest wish had been to own a house that belonged entirely to me—a real home where I never had to watch anyone's mood or fear being forced out again.

Gavin and I had grown up next door to each other. He had witnessed every humiliating, precarious year of my childhood and knew better than anyone how deeply I yearned for a home.

That was why the first thing he did after his startup succeeded was buy me a small two-bedroom apartment.

It was the first home that had ever truly belonged to me.

As his business expanded, we moved from one larger house to the next.

Whenever pressure overwhelmed me or anxiety knotted inside my chest, I soothed myself by buying another property.

Gavin would never have guessed that the papers I had handed him this time weren't a real estate contract.

They were a divorce agreement.

That was fine. It saved me a pointless explanation and spared me an equally pointless fight.

I answered flatly, "Yes. I found one I like. Just sign it."

Without a trace of suspicion, Gavin picked up a pen and signed his name with a quick flourish.

I took the agreement, ignored him, and went straight to the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

No sooner had I lain down than my phone vibrated with a message from my professor.

Professor: The project team is fully prepared. We leave in 2 days as scheduled.

For the first time in ages, a spark of light returned to my eyes as I stared at the screen.

Finally, I could leave this rotting relationship behind and return to the mountains and oceans that called to me.

Early the next morning, I got up and went to our first apartment to collect some important geology research materials.

I had kept the little two-bedroom place all these years. It held every manuscript, sample record, and set of research data I had compiled since graduate school—precious materials I couldn't do without.

The moment I opened the door, the sight inside pierced my heart like a poisoned blade.

Two bodies were entwined on the living room sofa.

Gavin and Brielle.