Chapter 9: Last Goodbye

He was there with a group of friends. Their laughter echoed through the terminal, easy and unbothered.

Lillian was there too. She wore a fluffy pink hoodie and white sneakers, her hand tucked comfortably into the crook of Derek’s arm.

Derek held a woman’s bag in one hand and had his other arm around Lillian as they walked at the back of the group. He looked relaxed, confident, like he owned the whole world.

Every now and then, Lillian would turn to say something, and Derek would always bend down patiently to listen. The sight made my stomach twist. I’d never seen him do that for me.

Unlike with me—Derek had always been a head taller than me, and kept growing. Whenever I was with him, I had to hop and look up just to talk to him.

Turns out, for someone he truly cares about, he would take the initiative to bend down. The realization stung, sharp and cold.

I took a deep breath, telling myself to have some dignity. I forced my chin up, my gaze straight ahead.

What he does has nothing to do with me. If I kept thinking about it, I’d only be hurting myself.

But there was only one road to the boarding gate. I could only follow them from a distance. I clutched my boarding pass, keeping my head down and moving fast.

The TSA line snaked past a Starbucks and a Hudson News, and the smell of burnt coffee clung to everything.

Finally, we reached a fork in the road.

Derek seemed a bit distracted, making several calls that didn’t go through, fiddling with his phone for a long time. He looked around, searching the crowd.

Eventually, he borrowed a friend’s phone, his face dark, and ducked into a restroom. He moved with the impatient stride I knew so well—frustrated, restless.

Not long after, my phone suddenly rang—it was an unfamiliar number.

"Natalie, you’re really holding a grudge this time. If I don’t look for you, you won’t look for me, huh? You even blocked me? If you’ve got the guts, just never contact me again. When you get to college in Chicago, you won’t know anyone—let’s see who’ll take care of you!"

Derek’s tone was harsh, scolding me all at once. His words tumbled out, fast and sharp, like he couldn’t stand the silence.

I didn’t say a word—there was really nothing left to say. I watched the crowds flow around me, faceless and free.

But Derek seemed even more annoyed:

"Not talking to you anymore. Hurry up and add me back on Messenger! I’m about to go abroad with some friends for a few days. If you can’t reach me by phone, don’t go crying and worrying!"

I let the call ring out, then blocked the new number too. I watched his name vanish from my phone for good. For the first time, I didn’t look back.