My 'Cruel' Breakup, His Lifelong Regret

The day I died, I told my best friend Teresa Godwin one last thing. "Don't bother with a headstone. Just hang this ring on a stick over my grave. It'll be enough for you to find me." It was the 327th day after my death when our college classmates threw a reunion. ***** They still spoke of me like I was something to spit on. Inside a private banquet hall at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York, glasses clinked, and whispers hummed thick in the air. "Let's be real—Robb Bramwell's still the biggest success story out of our class, right?" "No kidding! His company's untouchable now. Ivy League grads beg just to get an interview." "Sienna must be kicking herself for letting a gold mine like that walk away. Regret must be eating her alive." The table went quiet for a beat. Everyone's mind drifted back to college, to the two of us—the golden couple everyone had envied. I'd been the one who chased him. I chased him so hard the whole campus knew my name. On graduation day, I'd confessed to him first. And I'd been the first to say we were done. Someone broke the silence. "If Sienna hadn't broken up with him, she'd be Mrs. Bramwell right now." The door swung open before anyone could reply. Robb stepped inside, tailored suit sharp as a blade, his whole aura cold and unapproachable, like he was carved from ice. "Sorry I'm late." The classmates exchanged looks and swarmed him, fawning. "Mr. Bramwell! Congratulations on your engagement to Ms. Sorrel, we heard the news!" "And that painting Ashes at the charity gala last month—twenty million dollars for one canvas? You're unbelievable." "Hey, you think Sienna's kicking herself now? Seeing how big you made it?" "Who knows? Maybe she's living it up overseas. I saw her i********: last week. Traveling abroad, looking like she's having the time of her life." Robb lifted his glass, his face blank, and swirled the amber liquid inside. "Is that so?" His voice was flat, cold, and dismissive. Everyone in earshot heard it—he wanted nothing to do with me. The room went silent. Someone quickly changed the subject, laughing too loud, and the party picked back up. Halfway through the night, Robb stepped outside for air. He looked up to find his friend Dylan Bloom leaning against the railing. Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you show up to these things? Thought you were too busy." "They are my classmates, after all," Robb said noncommittally. Dylan glanced at him, amused. "That painting you bought. Ashes. It's Sienna's work, isn't it? Forget the whole 'Silencia' pen name thing, anybody with eyes can see the person in that painting is based on you." Robb sat there twirling a strand of hair around his finger, not saying a word. Dylan, though, tossed out a line. "Robb. It's been five years. You still hung up on her?" Robb's eyes went cold and sharp. "Don't be ridiculous. A painting of me, paraded around for strangers to gawk at? It's repulsive." Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. She was never worth it, anyway. "I'm heading out. All this ass-kissing's giving me a headache." Robb didn't move. He stayed leaning against the rail. Rain started to fall, blurring the city lights below. Against his will, his mind drifted back to the day we broke up. I'd always been soft with him. Always gentle. But that day, I had been ruthless. "Robb. College flings are college flings. You didn't actually think we had a future, did you?" "Robb, you have nothing. Why would I waste my life struggling with you?" "Walk out that gate, and we're done. Forever." Every word had haunted him every single night since. Robb smiled bitterly. His phone rang. It was his assistant. "Mr. Bramwell, the transfer paperwork for Ashes is finalized. "The gala organizers said, as a thank-you for your donation, they'll grant one reasonable request." Robb was silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke, his voice cold. "Tell the artist to come thank me. In person."