“You mean the version you convinced yourself of five years ago?”
That stings—but I don’t look away.
“You left,” I remind her, my voice coming out rough, like gravel dragged across steel.
“Yes. We both agreed on that. You drove me to the airport, remember?”
Her reply is sharp, her eyes flashing like arrows loosed straight at my chest—cutting, defiant.
But beneath the edge, a tremor hides.
“My visa was expiring. I had to finish my studies back home. My mom was… sick.”
Her voice falters on the last word, softening, the heat bleeding out of it as it catches in her throat. The light in her eyes wavers, pain surfacing beneath the armor.
I still, something cold sinking inside me.
“How is your mom?” I ask, softer this time, something real breaking through.
She doesn’t flinch.
“She died.” The words land heavy, brutal, final. “Cancer.”
My stomach twists. It knocks the air right out of me.
“Della, I—I’m sorry. I know how much she meant to you. I didn’t know…”
Her eyes burn as she cuts me off.
“Of course you didn’t,” she snaps, her voice bitter. “How could you? You weren’t there.”
I rake my hands through my hair, my voice slipping into something almost desperate.
“I tried—God, I tried. You didn’t answer my calls, Della.”
Her laugh is hollow, sharp.
“And you?” she says slowly, her gaze like ice, “You didn’t come for me.”
I take the hit. But I’m not done. I lean in, locking eyes with her.
“Tell me why,” I press, my voice low but unwavering. “Why didn’t you answer? Why did you disappear?”
For a second, something cracks in her expression—a flash of something dark and old.
She looks away, her voice clipped, brittle.
“I had my reasons.”
I don’t back down.
“I need to hear them, Della.” My voice drops further, rough and sharp. “I need to know what happened. Why you never called.”
She straightens, her mask slipping just enough to reveal the fire beneath.
“Oh, but I did.” Her words drop like a stone.
I blink, stunned.
