He felt as though Hazel was still beside him, her gentle, crescent-shaped eyes watching him with a tenderness that echoed in the stillness. But then, the harsh ring of his phone shattered the moment. His eyes darkened at the caller ID: Scarlett. He hesitated only a moment before answering.

“Ambrose, sis… sis won’t be in trouble, will she? It’s all my fault…”

Before, Scarlett’s tears would have broken his heart. He would have rushed to comfort her. Now, all he felt was irritation; her crying sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

An idea formed, sharp and sudden. He had to find Hazel. No matter the cost, he couldn't let her slip away.

Ambrose ended the call and searched desperately, combing through the house for any sign of Hazel. But she had vanished, leaving only empty space. The teddy bear, the diamond bracelet, their wedding rings—everything that held meaning lay discarded. Even their childish letters, filled with the warmth of their youth, had been tossed aside. It wasn't just the things; it was the memories, swept away by Hazel.

If anyone else had done this, it would have been spiteful, a bid for attention. But Hazel wasn't like that. As childhood sweethearts, Ambrose knew her too well to mistake this for anything but silent rebellion. This was her heart turning to ashes, her wordless goodbye.

With numb hands, he began cleaning the room, foolishly believing that restoring everything might bring her back. It wasn't until the wedding ring rolled under the bed that his world shattered. Then, he understood with painful clarity: Hazel was gone. The girl who had once been his everything was lost to him forever.

Meanwhile, Hazel, after sleepless nights, finally drifted into peaceful sleep on the plane. But even in her dreams, Ambrose haunted her. They had played house at seven, laughing as they crafted their little world. Ambrose had declared himself the groom, and her, the most beautiful bride. At eighteen, they had made it official, sealing their bond with a promise of forever.

Ambrose had held her hand, his voice firm: “Hazel, I swear, I will give you the grandest wedding, the most beautiful day of your life. I’ll make you the happiest woman alive!” This promise had kept Hazel clinging to hope, anticipating a future that once seemed certain. She couldn't bear to entrust the wedding to anyone else, determined to make it perfect, as they had dreamed at eighteen.

But time had faded youthful promises, and their love had slowly turned to regret. They had never reached their envisioned perfect ending.

When Hazel awoke, the headache had dulled, but her mind was heavy with unanswered questions. She stared at the clouds, a thought piercing the fog: When had it changed between her and Ambrose? Before or after Scarlett? The answer escaped her, and she didn't dare dwell on it. Ambrose had once filled her world; how could it have slipped away so quietly?

Giving up on him felt like her soul was being torn apart. Even after stepping off the plane, the weight of her decision crushed her, and she couldn't bring herself to open her phone. Lost in the unfamiliar streets, her heart heavy with doubt, a voice called out, “Hazel!” There, amidst the crowd, stood her mother, waving enthusiastically, a beacon of familiarity in the foreign land.