"Miss Robert, I appreciate your kindness, but I can't eat the cake," Amber said firmly, refusing to take the plate Calvin was pressing into her hands.

Her refusal seemed to strike a nerve. Calvin's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. Without a word, he grabbed her wrist, forcefully placing the plate back into her hand. His grip was unrelenting, leaving her no choice but to hold it.

The sudden pressure on her hand caused the half-healed wound from earlier to reopen. Fresh blood seeped from the cut, dripping onto the pristine white hospital floor, stark against its sterile backdrop.

"Blood!" Iris exclaimed, her voice tinged with alarm. "Driver lady, your hand is bleeding!"

Amber looked up at Calvin, her gaze pleading, her lips trembling as if begging for him to show mercy. But his cold, unyielding expression offered none. The man she had loved for a decade stood before her, oblivious to her pain, both physical and emotional.

Amber's heart twisted painfully in her chest. She didn't want to eat the cake, not because of the taste, but because she knew the agony that would follow. Mangoes weren't just a mild irritant for her; they were a torment. An allergic reaction would leave her body covered in angry red welts, the itch unbearable, often driving her to scratch herself until her skin broke and bled. She didn't want their last wedding anniversary to end in such humiliation.

Yet, Calvin's grip only tightened, his eyes daring her to disobey. He left her no escape.

Her breath hitched and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She refused to cry in front of him, not again. Amber steadied her trembling hand, picked up the fork and speared a piece of mango coated in cream.

She forced the fruit into her mouth, chewing slowly, her stomach rebelling with every movement. The sweetness of the cream mixed with the sharp acidity of the mango, turning the bite into an unbearable bitterness. She swallowed, the action painful, as though each piece dragged down her pride along with it.

"Is this enough now?" she asked silently, her heart screaming the words Calvin would never hear: "Is this what it takes for you to finally let me go?"

Calvin said nothing, watching as she continued to eat piece after piece. His silence was heavier than his words ever could be.

Amber's hand trembled so violently that the fork clattered against the plate. Her face was pale, her body visibly shaking, but she didn't stop. She didn't dare.

Finally, the grotesque scene jolted Calvin back to his senses. He stepped back, releasing her wrist abruptly as if scalded. Amber cradled her hand against her chest, tears pooling in her eyes but refusing to spill. The blood dripping from her wound was stark against the yellow of the mangoes.

"Why would you force her like that?" Iris's voice cut through the heavy silence, filled with genuine concern.

Amber didn't stay to hear Calvin's reply. She bent down to wipe the blood from the floor, ignoring the sharp sting in her hand. Straightening up, she clutched the cake tightly in one hand and turned to leave, her movements robotic, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I still need to get my wound treated, so I won't disturb everyone anymore."

Her words reached Calvin, soft and trembling, laced with the kind of pain that made even the air seem heavier. For a brief moment, Calvin frowned, unsure of what exactly she had to feel so aggrieved about. Was this another act, a show to earn his sympathy?

All this over a piece of cake? he thought.

Amber didn't wait for further humiliation. On her way out, she dumped the uneaten cake into a trash bin. The act felt like a small victory, though it did little to ease the sting of her humiliation.

Back at home, the mansion was silent. Florence greeted her hesitantly, sensing the storm brewing in Amber's expression. Amber walked past her without a word, heading straight to the kitchen.

The vegetables she had painstakingly prepped for their anniversary dinner were still waiting on the counter. With methodical precision, she began packing everything back into their containers, her movements eerily calm.

"Mrs. Amber, should I finish preparing dinner?" Florence asked tentatively.

Amber didn't answer right away. She stared at the ingredients, her fingers brushing the cool surface of the cutting board. Finally, she shook her head.

"No, Florence. There's no need."

Florence nodded, sensing it was best not to press.

Upstairs, Amber opened her wardrobe and pulled out three large cardboard boxes. She placed them on the bed, her mind clear for the first time in weeks. She wasn't just packing her belongings—she was erasing every trace of herself from this house.

One by one, memories were pulled from their hiding places.

The beautifully bound notebooks filled with unsent love letters to Calvin—trashed. Pages upon pages of words written in hope, in yearning, in heartbreak.

The adhesive bandages Calvin had grabbed for her during their college military training—meticulously preserved for years but never truly used—trashed.

The expensive wristwatch she had spent months saving up for, working part-time jobs to buy him a meaningful gift for his 20th birthday, only to have him dismiss it because Iris had already given him something better—trashed.

Each item tossed into the box felt like ripping a piece of herself away, but Amber didn't stop. By the time she was finished, the room looked emptier, cleaner, as though her presence had already begun to fade.

Amber pulled open the bottom drawer of her nightstand, retrieving a worn leather folder. Inside were neatly arranged documents: her finalized contract with a company in Hong Kong, a work visa and her one-way plane ticket.

She was finally letting him go.

In the days that followed, Amber hastened the process of packing her belongings. The mansion's trash bins filled quickly with old clothes, discarded trinkets and unused items. Every corner of the house bore the evidence of her quiet departure.

One evening, after a long day of work, Calvin returned home only to trip over a stack of neatly packed cardboard boxes near the door. Curious, he opened one, pulling out a few of Amber's personal items: crocheted carrots, potted succulents and Pikachu figurines.

"What's all this?" he asked, his voice casual but laced with an underlying tension.

Amber froze, her hand still poised mid-motion as she set the table. The briefest pause followed before she quickly came up with an explanation.

"I'm getting the studio ready for its opening. I thought some of my stuff would make it feel more like home," she said, trying to sound casual.

"Your stuff? How's that going to feel like home?" Calvin mused, crouching down to inspect one of the succulents. An involuntary smile tugged at his lips, though he was likely unaware of it.

Amber, eager to divert his attention, responded quickly, "Let's eat first. Florence made your favorite, sweet-and-sour ribs."

Calvin nodded, his attention momentarily diverted by the change in topic. He didn't press the matter further.

"Are you free tomorrow?" Amber asked, her voice calm and steady. "I was thinking we could visit our old high school. Together."

It was a simple request, but to Amber, it was important. She believed in endings with grace, that even the close of a chapter deserved its proper closure. Their relationship had begun in high school and it seemed fitting that it should end there, too.

Calvin didn't hesitate. "Sure, I don't mind."

The next morning, Amber woke to find the pillow beside her cold. Her routine felt oddly empty, as though something vital had slipped away. After washing up, she ate the wontons Florence had made for her and wrapped herself in a scarf.

She grabbed her canvas bag, dialing Calvin's number repeatedly, but his phone wouldn't connect. Frustration crept in as she tried again.

"Where are you? We agreed on this," she said, her voice trembling with quiet disappointment. She didn't finish the sentence, the hurt too raw to put into words.

"Sorry, Amber," Calvin's voice came through, distant and detached. "I promised Iris I'd go fishing with her today. She suddenly took a liking to fishing, of all things. I'll bring back some fish and make soup for you later."

In the background, Amber could hear Iris's cheerful voice, "Calvin, help me! I caught a big fish! You're going to love it today!"

Calvin's response was brief, almost dismissive. "Go to the high school by yourself. I can't make it."

Before Amber could protest, he hung up. She stood in the cold wind outside their old high school, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, her chest tightening. She wanted to scream, to demand that he see her, but instead, she swallowed her bitterness. She wouldn't ask for his attention anymore. Not after everything.

"It's fine," she whispered to herself. "I'm leaving soon anyway. I don't need your fish."

Her tears fell, but Amber wiped them away quickly. She had no more time for this, no more time for waiting. She pulled her suitcase behind her and walked towards the school gates.

At the entrance, she stopped a security guard. "Hello, sir. I graduated here and I'll be leaving Newark soon. Can I go in for one last look?"

The guard shook his head. "Sorry, miss. We don't allow outsiders on campus."

"Is there any way you could make an exception?" Amber asked, standing on tiptoe to peer through the small window in the gate.

The guard turned away without a word, leaving Amber with no choice but to leave.

Her shoulders sagged as she turned away from the gates. Another ending left incomplete. Another dream left unfulfilled. From any angle, their relationship had been doomed from the start. The beginning had been perfect, but that was all.

With a resigned sigh, she made her way to their old university. The security there was more lenient. She left her suitcase at the office and walked onto the campus, feeling the weight of memories heavy around her.

Amber wandered to the same burger stand where she used to go with Calvin during their university days. Back then, when she was infatuated with him, she had dreamed of sharing even something as simple as a burger with him. She had packed a meal just for him, but Calvin never cared for it. The meal she'd lovingly prepared ended up being fed to the school's stray cats.

As the fragrant hamburger was placed before Amber, an overwhelming surge of emotions hit her all at once, like a sudden tide pulling her under. The emotions she had kept buried for so long—her hurt, her resentment, her unspoken grief—found their escape in that moment. They rushed out in an uncontrolled flood, flooding her heart and mind.

She gasped for air as if she were drowning, her chest tight and her breath coming in shallow, frantic bursts. The taste of bitterness spread in her mouth, making it impossible to swallow and her stomach twisted in discomfort. Every part of her felt weighted, like a heavy stone lodged in her chest.

It took several long moments for her to regain some semblance of composure. She wiped at her eyes, steadying herself before she reached for the burger again, but this time, it tasted empty. The flavor of the meal was lost beneath the bitterness gnawing at her heart. As she ate, her tears fell unbidden, each drop carrying years of unvoiced sorrow.

Once she finished, Amber bought a bag of sausages and made her way to the lawn to feed the campus cats. It was one of those simple, quiet routines she had once enjoyed—something that had always brought her peace, even when everything around her felt fractured.

The campus cats were well-fed and plump, thanks to the kind-hearted students who had taken it upon themselves to care for them. Beneath the girls' dormitory, a special winter shelter had even been set up, stocked with freeze-dried food and canned meals purchased by the students. The warmth of the campus community was a stark contrast to the cold void Amber felt inside.

The campus was mostly empty—students scattered for the weekend. The teaching buildings were silent, the library still. A blanket of fallen leaves from the five French plane trees covered the ground beneath the dormitory, the autumn air crisp and cool.

Amber walked along the familiar paths she had taken countless times during her university years, her heart heavy with the realization that this would be her last visit. The heat of summer had faded with the arrival of fall and with it, the memories of their youth. She had no desire to cling to what was past—there was nothing left to hold onto.

By the time noon arrived, Calvin had finally remembered Amber. As he drove home, he eagerly pulled out his phone to share his success. He'd caught three fish that day and he couldn't wait to tell her.

Iris had proven to be his lucky charm. Every time he fished alone, he came back empty-handed, but with Iris by his side, he had caught three fish in one trip. He felt an unexplainable sense of triumph, eager to share it with Amber.

He dialed her number. The phone rang three times before being disconnected. The second call went unanswered as well. A third call went straight to voicemail.

An unfamiliar wave of panic crept into Calvin's chest, tightening around his heart. It was a feeling he hadn't had in a long time—not since the day his mother passed away. Calvin was used to being in control, to having everything within his reach. But now, that control seemed to slip from his grasp and he could not shake the growing unease.

Ignoring Iris's voice from the backseat, he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, speeding home. When he arrived, the house was eerily quiet. The television was off and something felt off, though he couldn't quite place it at first.

Amber.

His stomach dropped and he rushed into the kitchen, his voice rising with frustration. "Amber, why didn't you answer my calls?"

But there was no answer. Only Florence, who was cleaning the kitchen, looked up in surprise.

"Sir, Madam has already left," Florence said, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Left?" Calvin's voice rose in disbelief. "What do you mean, left? Where could she possibly go? This is her home. Where would she go?"

Florence hesitated before handing him two items— a divorce agreement and a farewell letter Amber had instructed her to give him.