I dried my tears and sent Sarah Harding a message.

Once this interview was done, I could leave.

Our brief exchange on WhatsApp revealed something I hadn't expected: Sarah and I had spent time in the same orphanage as children.

We agreed to meet at three o'clock at a coffee shop on the south side of town.

Maybe it was some petty competitive instinct, but I made sure I looked good.

I wore the most expensive dress in my closet, did my makeup light and natural, and curled my hair on the spot.

Going to meet Julius Henson's first love, the least I could do was look the part.

She was already there when I arrived.

Prettier than I'd imagined.

Just like her name suggested, she was vivid, full of life, with a stubborn spark that refused to quit.

“Alma!”

The moment she saw me, she stood and waved. On her wrist was a red string bracelet threaded with a tiny bell engraved with a blessing.

“Over here, over here.”

Her wrist swung and the bell rang, crisp and clear. I recognized it. Julius and I had picked it out together not long ago.

He'd said it was a gift for a business partner's daughter. I'd believed him.

I walked over and sat down.

“I remember you liked sweet things. Even at the orphanage, you'd add an extra spoonful of sugar to the plain oatmeal.”

She pushed a mango smoothie across the table toward me.

We'd only overlapped for six months, yet she remembered details like that.

Julius didn't. Last month, for my birthday, he'd gone ahead and swapped the mango cake I'd ordered for a matcha one.

And when he brought it home, a corner was already missing.

He said he'd given that piece to Sarah.

“You have a good memory,”

“Of course I do,”

She looked at me and smiled, her eyes curving into warm crescents.

“Alma, you saved my life!”

“The winter I came to the orphanage, I had a fever so bad I started seizing. You were the one who got up and woke the caretaker and got me to the hospital.”

“The doctor said if I'd been brought in even an hour later, the fever could have caused brain damage.”

My fingers stiffened around my cup.

I never knew there was that kind of history between us.

“I remember now,”

I said, my voice suddenly thick.

There were words I swallowed back down.

I should have confronted her about her relationship with Julius. I should have questioned her character, thrown the drink in her face.

But looking at the girl beaming at me with such open warmth, I couldn't do it.

“Alma, how long have you and Julius been together?”

As we were leaving, she asked the question out of nowhere.

“Three years.”

“Three years,”

she repeated, her face glowing with genuine happiness for us.

“You two must be so solid. Julius seems cold on the surface, but he's actually the most devoted person I know.”

“Once he decides something matters to him, he never, ever forgets.”

She was right. And she was wrong.

Julius was devoted, yes. But the person he was devoted to was her. The one he never forgot was her.

On the drive home, a message from Julius came through.

【Dinner meeting tonight. Won't be back.】

【Got it.】

I took a detour to the store and bought a bunch of fresh gardenias, then went home and arranged them in a vase.

On impulse, I snapped a photo of the flowers and posted it to Instagram with a single line.

【Love yourself before you love anyone else.】

Then I booked a flight overseas. The day after tomorrow.

By the time I finished packing, I noticed Sarah had liked the post, and Julius had left me a rare WhatsApp message.

【You interviewed Sarah today?】

【She's not in the best health. Don't ask too many questions that might upset her.】

Aside from his usual "working late, won't be back," that was the most he'd said to me in weeks.

Make do.

I stared at that message for a long time. Then I laughed.

Sarah couldn't be too upset. But what about me?

Julius came home after midnight.

No trace of alcohol on him. Just the faint scent of kapok blossoms.

“You're still up?” he asked quietly.

“Julius,”

I said his name like it was the last time I ever would.

“Do you remember the first bouquet you gave me?”

He went quiet for a moment.

“I do.”

“Gardenias. Because of my name.”

“The florist said they were sold out. Told you to settle for red roses instead.”

“You said no. Then you ran three blocks to find another shop and bought them anyway.”

I walked him through the memory, piece by piece.

"But this time, you told me the shop only had gardenias left. That I should just settle.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

I understood him, really. He wanted to make up for old regrets with Sarah so he could come back to us with a clear conscience.

He assumed I'd always be right here, waiting.

But I was done waiting.

I looked him in the eye and said it word by word.

“Let's break up, Julius.”

“You want to break up with me?”

Irritation crept into his voice.

“Over a bouquet of flowers?”

I lowered my head and laughed. At him, for still not seeing it. At his arrogance.

I stood up and kept my voice level.

“I'm going to bed.”

“You should get some rest too.”

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a barrage of calls from Roderick.

“Alma, I need you. It's an emergency.”

He explained that the reporter assigned to cover a story at a construction site on the outskirts of town had come down with food poisoning. No one else was available, so they were pulling me in despite my imminent departure.

I threw on clothes, splashed water on my face, and rushed to the scene.

The construction site was packed, workers blocking every entrance. Only then did I realize what this assignment was: a wage-theft protest.

Bad luck must have been following me. During the commotion, a bottle came flying out of nowhere and cracked against my skull.

Glass. Blood poured down my face immediately.

I was still conscious when the ambulance brought me in. On the stretch from the hospital entrance to the ER, I saw someone I never expected.

Julius. With Sarah on his arm.

He brushed right past my gurney.

“You just came out here with me without telling anyone?”

“No. I didn't need to.”

The hand I'd been about to reach out to him pulled back. His name died in my throat.

Then everything went black from the blood loss.

When I woke up, there were less than twelve hours before my flight.

The only new message on my phone was from Julius.

【Not coming home tonight.】

I didn't reply.

My head was still heavy and throbbing, but I grabbed my suitcase and boarded the plane.

At the same time, Julius was at the airport seeing Sarah off.

“Will you come back?”

His voice was calm, as though some unfinished chapter had finally closed.

“If I get the chance, yes.”

Sarah smiled and nodded.

“Don't forget to tell Alma to touch up my interview photos!”

She waved goodbye from the security checkpoint entrance.

Julius watched her disappear, then dialed Alma's number.

No answer. He smiled to himself, a little helpless. She was probably sulking because he'd been neglecting her lately.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned. It was Roderick, Alma's assistant.

“Julius, are you here to see Alma off too?”

“See her off for what?”

Something was slipping out of his control. Panic surged from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Alma accepted the overseas correspondent assignment.”

Roderick's voice carried a note of confusion.

“Weren't you two about to get married? Why would she leave now?”

Julius grabbed Roderick's shoulder, his voice tight with urgency.

“What's the flight number!”

“MU5013. She didn't tell you?”

The roar of an engine tore past overhead, and Julius's gaze snapped to the window.