For three years, you and Evan Parker slowly grew accustomed to one another. Your relationship with him surpassed anything you ever imagined. He was kind, gentle, and everything a woman could hope for. Both your families knew about the relationship, and they welcomed it warmly.

But with time, everything began to shift. You started arguing over the smallest things. And whenever he came home late after being out with his friends, you would stop talking to him for days.

You never realized how much it weighed on him. Slowly, he grew used to your silence, your anger, your shouting… used to your absence.

And on the day you decided to end things, your pride didn’t let you stop him—even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. You didn’t try to fix anything. You let him walk away.

After the breakup, you never believed it would last. You were certain he would come back… until you heard he was engaged, that he had truly moved on. The news hit you like a bucket of ice water. You didn’t want this. You had been waiting for him.

The months that followed were quietly killing you. You missed everything about him, and you longed for him more than ever. Three more months passed… and you felt yourself slowly falling apart.

Then today, as you checked his social media, the update you had been waiting for finally appeared:

He had called off his engagement.

Without hesitation—though your hands trembled—you dialed his number.

He didn’t answer the first time. You waited a few minutes and called again. At last, he picked up.

“Hello?”

You answered after a breath, your voice barely holding together: “H-hey.”

He replied flatly, his tone tinged with exhaustion—perhaps because of the news: “Who?”

The question struck you like a slap. He had deleted your number… erased even the memory of your voice.

You swallowed hard. “It’s… me.”

A heavy silence filled the line before he finally spoke, bitterness slipping through:

“Ah… did you come to gloat over me?”