The Departure
875 Words
FIYIN
Feddie told me he was leaving on a Tuesday. It was a Tuesday when he hit me with his car. Tuesdays were clearly committed to chaos.
He stood in the kitchen, suit jacket draped over one arm, a warm cup of espresso in hand. Everything about him was smooth and collected—except his eyes. They lingered on me like he was trying to memorize something he couldn’t name.
“It’s just for four days,” he said. “I’ll be back by Saturday. Sunday, latest.”
I nodded, fiddling with the edge of the dining table placemat.
He paused. “You’ll be okay?”
I blinked. That was the first time he’d asked me that.
“Yeah,” I said. “I mean… the house is safe. The cameras are on. And Mama Deka’s a call away.”
He gave a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. The housekeeper will come by twice. I already told the agency not to send the cook.”
Because he knew I wouldn’t eat if I felt watched.
And somehow, that mattered.
“I left some extra cash in the drawer beside the fridge. Just in case.”
“Are you expecting me to throw a party?” I asked, dry.
He chuckled. “You’d be surprised what happens in this house when I’m gone.”
Something flickered in his expression. He didn’t elaborate. He just took a long sip of his espresso and glanced at his phone. His private driver was outside already.
But he didn’t move.
I watched him, curious. “What?”
He looked at me like he wanted to say something important. Something that didn’t quite fit in the space between strangers and friends.
“I shouldn’t be nervous about a trip I’ve done a hundred times,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re nervous?”
“Not for the trip,” he said quietly. “For the leaving.”
And that made something warm curl up in my chest, like soft fire. I wasn’t sure how to hold it.
“You’ll be fine,” I said, quieter now. “I’ll be fine.”
He gave a slow nod and finally turned toward the door. Then, abruptly, he turned back and reached into his pocket.
He placed a slim black phone on the counter.
“A backup. Only has my number and Mama Deka’s. Use it if you need anything. Or if…” He hesitated. “If something doesn’t feel right.”
I picked it up slowly. “Okay.”
He hesitated again—then, in a rare move, he touched my hand.
Just lightly. A brush. But it made my breath freeze.
“Be safe, Rose,” he said.
And then he was gone.
FIYIN
The silence was louder when he left.
Not the creepy horror-movie silence. This was emotional. Stretchy. Like an empty sweater two sizes too big, wrapped around me without warmth.
I wandered the house like I was hunting ghosts. Maybe I was.
The cleaner came and went Thursday. Polite, quiet, careful not to make eye contact.
I stayed in the living room mostly. Or the study. Pretended I could read books I didn’t remember learning. My brain didn’t want fiction or poetry. It wanted… presence. Something real to latch onto.
By Friday, the stillness was unbearable. I thought about calling Mama Deka, but I didn’t want to seem needy. Or worse, like I couldn’t survive without Feddie.
So I stayed quiet. Fed the birds by the balcony. Took two photos with the burner phone. Ate cereal at 2 p.m.
I didn’t notice anything strange.
Until Saturday morning.
ISABELLE
She’d watched the place three days in a row. Parked far enough not to be seen on security cameras, but close enough to track the patterns.
No Feddie.
Just the girl.
And finally, her moment.
Saturday. The girl stepped out onto the patio with a bowl of fruit. Alone. No driver. No visits. No security sweep.
Isabelle’s lip curled.
She wasn’t done. Not even close.
If she couldn’t have Feddie, she’d remind him what it meant to ignore her.
FIYIN
It was the second time I felt it—the prickling on the back of my neck. Like I was being watched.
I paused on the back patio, squinting toward the fence.
Nothing.
The birds were chirping. The sun was soft. Everything was normal.
Except it wasn’t.
I stepped back inside and locked the sliding door.
Then checked it again.
FEDDIE
He was halfway across the world, but something felt off.
He hadn’t heard from her. Not even a “got your message” text.
He didn’t want to smother her—but still. Itched in his gut.
He sent her a voice note.
“Hey. Just checking in. You good?”
Nothing.
He glanced at his watch.
Flight leaves in three hours. If she didn’t answer soon, he was getting on that plane with a head full of questions.
FIYIN
The burner phone vibrated.
Feddie.
His voice came through calm, but something in it made my chest tighten.
I looked out the window one last time.
Still nothing.
But I locked every door in the house.
And kept the phone close to my chest.
- Writer
