My Forever

IRENE

The bus comes to a stop for a small break near a rundown service station. Still, there’s a busy café, a small convenience store, and some restrooms beside the gas station.

Passengers start disembarking to stretch their legs, some walking in the direction of the café and some making their way toward the restrooms.

I notice Daniel is the first one out of the bus, which isn’t surprising. Long bus rides make him irritable, as there’s almost no room between the rows of seats for him to stretch his long legs and he hates feeling confined.

When we used to travel back home together, he always preferred to drive. Honestly, those road trips were the best. We had so much fun, the long exhausting drive suddenly becoming refreshing as we made new memories.

It feels so strange. I used to think that when I looked back at those memories, they’d bring happiness, but now it’s always pain that accompanies them.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes. A headache is starting to spread, making me aware of the untouched coffee that’s still sitting on my kitchen counter.

I pick up my handbag and make my way toward the bus door. When I pass where Daniel was sitting, I notice a half-zipped bag on his seat and a frustrated groan leaves my mouth.

Idiot never takes care of his belongings. Always leaving his stuff open, carelessly lying here and there.

I zip up his bag and get off the bus.

Strolling toward the café, I cover my mouth with my hand, coughing a little at the dust that blows when some other bus pulls out of the service station.

The sound of the bell is almost inaudible as I open the door and walk inside the overly busy café. Standing in front of the counter, I tap my fingers as I wait for someone to take my order.

Nearly ten minutes later, a guy approaches me and gives me a tired smile before asking me what he can get me.

“Large coffee,” I say as I rummage through my bag for my wallet. But as usual, my bag has become a black hole, swallowing everything which goes inside it.

I sigh in relief when I find the wallet and begin to take it out, but as my head turns to the side, I see Daniel extend his hand to pay for my coffee.

“No, thank you,” I curtly say, and quickly pay for my coffee before the cashier can take the money from his hand.

Sitting on a bench beside the café, I look down the road and watch the cars pass. I take a small sip from my coffee after blowing on it to cool it down a little.

The hot liquid going down my throat brings a temporary sense of comfort.

I don’t turn when I feel his presence beside me. Silence surrounds us—other than the sound of chatting coming from the café whenever the door opens and the noise coming from the road as cars pass by.

That’s what’s left between us, silence. This is what he wanted from me, silence. And that’s what I have for him now, silence.

“It’s not safe to sit here like this. Go and sit inside the café till the bus is ready to depart.” He speaks as if he still has any right to me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how it’s any of your concern.” I stare down at the coffee and take another sip, this time letting the hot liquid burn my throat.

“It’s not safe,” he repeats. I can hear the irritation in his voice, sounding just like it used to when I wouldn’t listen to him.

“Again, it’s not any of your concern, and I am not your responsibility. You don’t need to worry about me.” My voice is firm as I glance at him—a muscle in his jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth.

I used to love everything about him: His anger, his protectiveness, the smiles that would suddenly appear on his face even when he was angry. The tears he used to show me whenever things became difficult for him. The way he used to show his love by doing small things for me.

But now everything looks meaningless.

Swallowing, I look down and gather my bearings, then get up and walk toward the bus as passengers start to file back inside.

How can he behave as if nothing has happened? Like we’re just some long-lost friends who’ve met again and are trying to reconnect with each other? He has hurt me more than anyone.

His words are still clear in my mind, piercing my heart just the way they did the first time I heard them.

I don’t want to do anything with you. Marrying you was a mistake, ~which I’m paying for now. I regret rushing into this relationship when I should’ve been concentrating on myself and my career.~

He promised he wouldn’t leave me, but he wasn’t there for me when I needed him the most. Even after everything, a part of me hoped he would at least keep his promise. But it was always a lie, just like all his other promises.