Letting Go of the Past Novel – It was the seventh year of my marriage to Owen Brooks. We ran into each other at an upscale restaurant. He was having a candlelight dinner with Isabella Stewart. I was there with a client. Our eyes met for a second before we both looked away, a silent agreement to pretend nothing had happened. After my dinner ended, Owen was waiting outside in his car.
I gave him a polite thank you and slid into the back seat. Halfway through the drive, he suddenly pulled over. “Ava, I ended things with her for good today.” I was speechless, managing only an awkward laugh. Honestly, whether they broke up or not had nothing to do with me anymore. I’d stopped loving him a long, long time ago. … The little decal belonging to Isabella was still on the passenger-side dash. In the hazy night, the thing that once seemed like such a brazen declaration now just looked a little faded and yellowed. Maybe my reaction was too calm, because Owen’s brow furrowed slightly in the rearview mirror.
“I’m planning to go see your parents in a few days. When works for you?” I froze, my immediate instinct to say no. “Their health hasn’t been great lately. It’s probably better if you don’t go.” He hadn’t been back to see them once since he got together with Isabella. Doing the math, it had been four years. The moment the words left my mouth, Owen’s expression darkened. I tensed up, about to explain myself, but then I just heard him sigh. “Alright. We’ll do it your way.” With that, he started the car again.
The rain outside grew heavier, pattering against the windows. The atmosphere in the car turned cold. We drove the rest of the way in silence. Staring out at the curtain of rain, I felt a strange sense of a daze. It felt like it had been a long time since we’d been this… peaceful together. The last time we saw each other, we were like mortal enemies. And now here we were, sitting in the same car, calm and composed. I snapped back to reality as the car pulled into the apartment complex. Owen had actually driven back to the complex where we used to live.
I opened my mouth to say something. But after seeing the look in his eyes, I swallowed the words. Inside the elevator, Owen suddenly spoke. “How have you been these past few years?” I offered a polite, distant smile. “I’ve been fine.” He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. His eyes were fixed on me, as if he was trying to see right through me. His stare made me uncomfortable, so I just watched the floor numbers, praying the elevator would go faster.
When the doors opened, I think Owen said something. But the chime of the elevator drowned it out, and I didn’t catch it. Owen paused for a second when he used his fingerprint to unlock the door. Then, a faint smile actually touched his lips. The next second, that smile froze on his face. The apartment clearly hadn’t been lived in for a long time. The air was thick with the sickening smell of mildew, dust, and rust. It was so pungent it made my eyes water.
Owen reached for the light switch, his hand coming away covered in dust. I pulled a tissue from my purse and handed it to him. “The power’s probably off. The bill hasn’t been paid in a while.” My tone was as matter-of-fact as if I were discussing a grocery list. He froze and looked up at me. “You… don’t live here?” I nodded and paid the electric bill on my phone. The power came back on a few moments later. As the lights flickered on, the state of the room was revealed.
Four years, and the place looked exactly as I’d left it. Our wedding photo was torn to pieces, scattered carelessly on the floor. Dark, grimy stains on the sofa and bed were a stark reminder of everything that had happened here. They were the marks left from when I tried to kill myself, back when my depression was at its worst. In the seventh year of my marriage to Owen. I had returned, once again, to the scene of my old nightmare. But it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Calm and composed. A phrase that hadn’t described the two of us for a very long time. Owen kept his head down, staring at the scene before him. I waited for a moment, but he didn’t react, so I turned to leave. “If you’re planning on staying here tonight, you can call building management.
They can find you a cleaner.” As I walked past him, Owen grabbed my hand. “Where are you living now? I’ll take you.” A jolt went through me, and I yanked my hand away as if I’d been shocked. I took a step back, putting distance between us. “No, thanks.” The Uber I’d called was already downstairs. I fled the scene. When I got home, my dad and brother were already asleep. My mom was still up, waiting for me. “Why are you back so late? Did something happen on the way?” “Dinner’s gone cold. I’ll go heat it up for you. You go take a shower.” The moment the hot water hit my skin, the gloom of the day instantly washed away. The scars on my wrist began to ache faintly.
It had been like this for years. Whenever it was cold and rainy, the scars would start to itch. When I came o