Chapter 8
After returning from Heritage Coast, Andrew locked himself in the editing room at Initial Media Corporation.
He ignored all calls, abandoned projects, canceled every meeting. For three full days, he neither ate nor drank, dis- secting the last video Sylvia left behind frame by frame.
Her recording held no dramatic monologues, not even audible sobs–just soft farewells and a few faint smiles.
He watched it dozens of times, silently demanding with each replay:
How did you walk this path alone?
In your final second, did you think of me?
By dusk on the fourth day, he emerged from the editing room visibly thinner, stubble unkempt, eyes bloodshot.
Rebecca cornered him the moment he stepped into his office.
“Andrew, where have you been?
You terrified me! I couldn’t reach you for days!”
He brushed past her without response.
“Do you actually believe that video?
She left your life long ago. Didn’t she choose her own path?”
Andrew halted, turning with gravelly coldness: “Just answer me one thing.”
“When did you know she was ill?”
Rebecca froze, avoiding his gaze.
“Her will mentioned you’re the only person who knew her true condition yet stayed silent.
Isn’t that true?”
Her lips trembled. “No, I just―”
“You feared her return, didn’t you?”
Andrew’s words struck like ice. “Scared she’d come back and reclaim me.”
“I did fear her return!”
Rebecca finally shattered, voice cracking.
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“You’ve never let her go!
Do you know whose name you cry in your sleep?
Who received thirty desperate Facebook messages when you were drunk?”
“I see her shadow in your heart, yet I stayed three years, Andrew. Can’t I ask for some security?”
“So you hid her illness? Let her die alone?”
“I never thought she’d actually leave!”
She sobbed. “She shouldn’t have! Only survivors get to judge me–but she quit! I’m the one who stayed!”
“She didn’t quit. She was broken.”
Andrew advanced slowly. “Tell me–about the earrings. Was that deliberate too?”
Tears streaked Rebecca’s face. “I found them. I needed to know if she still haunted you.
I wore those earrings, yet you glanced right through me. I knew you still saw her.”
“I planned to confess everything at our engagement, but she… left early. I never imagined she’d choose the night be- fore our ceremony.”
Andrew’s eyes darkened. “You didn’t just ignore her death. You gambled on her dying quietly.”
“You feared she’d return to ruin your image, our wedding, the life you’ve built over three years.”
“But you underestimated her.”
“She never intended to ruin anyone.”
Rebecca collapsed weeping. “I’m not evil–just terrified.”
“Evil?” He stared down. “You’re merely selfish.”
He turned and pulled the cooperation termination agreement from the file cabinet, slamming it before her:
“Starting today, you’re neither my fiancée nor the creative director of Initial Media Corporation.”
“It’s over between us.”
She tried to throw herself into his arms, but he stepped back, evading her touch.
Rebecca knelt weeping, collapsing amid scattered document fragments.
From that moment, Andrew ceased being the business partner obsessed only with projects and numbers.
He lost a person.
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And forfeited any right to forgiveness.
That evening, all Initial Media Corporation employees received an internal announcement:
The engagement ceremony is canceled. Executor Andrew has apologized to all partners. Rebecca resigns effective immediately and won’t participate in future projects.
The whole city buzzed with shock.
Andrew sat alone in the conference room, replaying Emerie’s final recording, listening repeatedly to her words:
“Thank you for entering my life.”
Tears dripped steadily down his chin.
The quieter her departure, the deeper his debt.
This was no ordinary farewell.
It was his life’s singular chance at redemption – missed forever.
