Chapter 4: Letting Go

After making this decision, I agonized over when to say it.

Since moving in with the Young family during high school, Mrs. Young had always treated me well.

She’d bring me an extra blanket in winter, slip me a thermos of hot chocolate before swim meets, and never forgot a birthday. It was more than just kindness—it felt like being part of a real family.

I could tell she truly liked me, and saw me as a daughter.

That’s exactly why I struggled—how could I break the news with the least pain?

The thought of hurting her made my chest ache. I tried rehearsing what I’d say, whispering apologies in the bathroom mirror late at night, but the words always came out wrong.

When it was time to try on wedding dresses, I postponed it, using work as an excuse.

After graduating, I joined a media company in Toledo, handling celebrity marketing and planning.

Caleb wasn’t happy about my job. I often had to work overtime, sometimes even get up at two in the morning for meetings.

So when I said I was busy, he didn’t question it at all.

He even seemed relieved.

Except for Mrs. Young, who thought I was being wronged, and scolded Caleb over the phone.

When I got home, she’d just finished the call, her eyes still red.

She grabbed her bag, pulling me along. "It’s nothing, Natalie, I’ll take you to find him, make him give you an explanation."

She marched across the living room with a determined look, keys jangling in her hand. I could almost smell the faint whiff of Chanel No. 5 she always wore.

"What kind of person puts coming back to the country above trying on wedding dresses with his fiancée?"

"He really is hopeless!"

From Mrs. Young’s words, I understood—it was because Lillian had come back.

No wonder he’d been distracted lately. No wonder he seemed relieved when I said I couldn’t make it to try on dresses.

No wonder. No wonder.

I pressed my lips together to keep from crying. When you’re beyond words, sometimes all you can do is laugh.

Mrs. Young was startled, hugging me. "Natalie, I know you’ve been hurt. Don’t be afraid, I’ll stand up for you."

"Aunt Carol." I gently pushed her away. "Let me decide for myself."

"I’ll handle it."

She looked at me for a long moment, her eyes glassy, then nodded. "You’re stronger than you think."

I went upstairs, dazed for a while, wanting to get my phone from my bag, but ended up dropping everything onto the floor.

My purse spilled open, lipstick rolling under the dresser, receipts fluttering out. I knelt, gathering the mess with trembling hands.

I crouched down, picked up my phone, then just leaned against the bed and called him.

The phone rang several times.

When he answered, the background was noisy—I couldn’t hear clearly.

"What is it?"

"Where are you?"

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly sneered: "What, checking up on me?"

He moved somewhere quieter. "Natalie, do you really have to go this far?"

"It wasn’t enough for my mom to chew me out, now you want to as well?"

"I said I’d marry you, isn’t that enough?"

"Where are you?" I repeated.

My nails dug into my palm as I struggled to keep my composure.

"...If you want to come, then come." He gave an address, paused, then added, "Since you’re coming, bring the file folder from my office."

He hung up. I stared at the ceiling for a long time, barely holding back tears.

The popcorn texture above me swirled in the half-light. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and forced myself to breathe evenly, clutching my phone so hard my knuckles turned white.

I rarely went into Caleb’s office—he didn’t like it.

The office was decorated in stark black and white, just like him: cold and quiet.

I spotted the folder on the desk immediately, but just as I was about to take it, my eyes landed on a journal lying to the side.

Sometimes, people really do have premonitions.

Like in school, when you somehow know the teacher is about to call your name.

It was the same now.

I knew I shouldn’t open it, but my eyes were glued to it.

The moment I opened the journal, I couldn’t help but hold my breath.

[August 29, 2015

There’s someone new at home. Mom and Dad said she’s an athlete, she’ll be living with us from now on.

She always smells like sweat. So annoying.]

I remembered it was a scorching day. I arrived at the Young house in Maple Heights, dragging a pile of luggage.

My parents and Mrs. Young were good friends. That year, I’d made the state team, and to make training easier, they arranged for me to transfer schools.

When I arrived, the first to open the door was Caleb.

He wore a crisp white T-shirt, hair neat and fresh, took my things inside, then turned and asked, "I’m Caleb Young. What’s your name?"

"Natalie Evans."

He smiled at me, set my things in the room: "Your room’s all set up. If you need anything, just tell me. I’ll have my mom arrange it."

Back then, he was gentle and polite.

I stood there awkwardly, looking at him, feeling as if a soft seed had been planted in my heart.

I never imagined this was what he truly thought of me.

[November 5, 2015

I always feel the way she looks at me is weird. Does she really like me? She even gave me a birthday present—a hand-knitted plush toy. Derek asked for it, I gave it to him. Got goosebumps all over.]

[January 3, 2016

Hate it when people joke about us.]

[March 7, 2016

She actually confessed to me. Unbelievable. Does she really think she’s the heroine of some romance novel? How much longer until she moves out?]

My throat was tight, my hands shaking as I turned the pages.

When I first arrived in Maple Heights, I had no friends.

No one at school would talk to me, except for other athletes, who would chat occasionally.

Most of the time, I was alone.

The cafeteria buzzed with gossip and the smell of tater tots, but I sat at the end of the table, picking at cold pizza. I’d watch other girls gossip over Snapchat and wonder if I’d ever belong.

Caleb took care of me at school—he remembered my period, stood up for me when I was mocked, bandaged my wounds when I got hurt.

Liking Caleb was the most natural thing in the world.

So, even after I found out he didn’t love me, even when I decided to break up, I never regretted liking him when I was young.

Back then, I didn’t have much money, so with my clumsy hands, I learned to make gifts myself, like others did.

That plush toy took me weeks, making and remaking it.

When I gave it to him at the party, everyone stared.

I felt embarrassed, about to take it back.

But Caleb had already accepted it, putting it back in the gift box.

"Thank you. I really like it."

I thought he truly liked it, so even when Derek mouthed “fat pig” at me, I didn’t care.

I never cared what others thought—my mom always said, save your feelings for people who treat you right.

Caleb liked it, so I liked it too.

Seventeen-year-old me never imagined that gift was given to Derek right away.

Derek tossed it in the trash the moment he left.

I never understood why Derek was so hostile to me. Later, I realized it was just because I wasn’t pretty.

That’s why he targeted me so maliciously.

But back then, I didn’t know. I thought Caleb was different from everyone else.

I cherished my girlish feelings—like most people, it wasn’t a special crush.

Just because I wasn’t pretty, I was labeled “disgusting,” “unbearable.”

When I confessed, I stammered, couldn’t finish a sentence.

He always smiled gently.

"Thank you for liking me, but I’m not planning to date right now."

What was he really thinking then?

I felt sick, wanted to throw up, but could only dry heave.

Tears fell from the physical strain.

I gripped the journal, forcing myself to keep reading.

[April 9, 2016

I found a girlfriend, hoping she’d give up and stop looking at me like that.]

I couldn’t help but laugh.

For the first time, I realized how laughable, how cheap, how worthless my feelings were.

But he could have told me.

There were so many chances—if he’d just told me, I would never have approached him.

Why do considerate things on one hand, and write things like this on the other?

The last journal entry stopped on May 13th.

That day, Caleb was being extorted by some guys. He refused, a fight broke out, and I shielded him with my body.

In the end, my hand was struck with a baseball bat.

I could never lift weights again.

After that, Caleb broke up with Lillian.

Not long after, Lillian went abroad, and they lost contact for good.