Love’s End After Seven Years
Language: en
Seven years after my divorce from Julian, we met again at the school bus stop. He was dropping off his stepson for summer camp, and I was one of the teachers in charge of the event. I meticulously checked off his son’s registration details. He listened intently, like any responsible parent. It was only when I coolly addressed him as "Mr. Julian" that he seemed to flinch, a fleeting moment of lost thought. "Elara," he said, "you've... changed a lot." I focused on adjusting my microphone, offering no reply. Changed? Yes, a lot. At least, I wouldn’t waste my time waiting for him…