With every message he read, it felt like another piece of his heart was being carved away.
He had never paid attention to these small details of our life together.
Looking at them now, he finally realized just how much I had done for him.

Tears streamed down his face.
He tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming. When he had no tears left to cry, he looked up at David.
"Can you find out where this statement was printed?"
"I'm out of options. Please, help me…"
Meanwhile, my plane had landed.
I was in Europe, in a place with an eight-hour time difference from New York.

The air was cold, the streets nearly empty.
I quickly pulled another jacket from my suitcase, then hailed a cab to the apartment I had booked.
Once I had unpacked, I finally had a moment to breathe.
Before I could even get a drink of water, my stomach growled.

I realized then that I hadn't eaten anything all day.
From the moment I left that house, it was as if my senses had shut down.
I had no appetite, no thirst.
My only purpose had been to leave.
Now, standing on the other side of the world, I didn't feel the happiness I had expected.
Numbly, I put my coat back on and went outside.
The restaurant downstairs looked upscale, filled with a young, lively crowd.
My somber mood didn't seem so out of place amidst the cheerful chaos.
As I ate, I still couldn't taste a thing.
But this sudden, unexpected freedom made me laugh out loud.
Before my laughter faded, a group in the corner erupted in cheers.
A young couple was getting engaged.
As snow fell gently outside the window, the boy knelt on one knee.
The girl's friends surrounded them, encouraging them to kiss for the cheering crowd.
Watching the scene unfold, I instinctively reached for my phone to capture the moment.
But my hand froze when my eyes landed on the cold wedding photo on my lock screen.