“Go ahead.”
Another pause.
“I’m living with Mom in her one‑bedroom condo. We’re cramped. Very cramped. We’re fighting all the time. She nags me every day, saying everything went wrong because of me. She says, ‘If I hadn’t gotten involved in that card thing, we’d be living normally right now.’”
Kiana laughed quietly.
“And what do you want me to say? That I pity you?”
“No, I just… I just wanted you to know. I’m having a hard time. A really hard time.”
“Darius, I’m sorry to hear that, of course, but that was your choice. You chose your mother and her greed. Now you have to live with the consequences.”
He sighed heavily.
“Will you ever forgive me?”
“Forgive?”
Kiana considered.
Maybe someday she would forgive when enough time had passed and the pain had completely dulled.
But she didn’t want to forgive him now.
“I don’t know, Darius. Possibly. But definitely not now. And even if I forgive you, we won’t get back together. That’s impossible.”
“I understand,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper.
“Forgive me for everything.”
She didn’t answer.
She just disconnected the call and put the phone on the table.
Darius didn’t call again.
February brought news from Shauna.
Her friend called one evening, excited and joyful.
“Kiki, listen. Remember my cousin Tammy? She’s a realtor. Well, she says they’ve listed your old street’s two‑bedroom condo. Darius and his mother are trying to sell her apartment and split up. Couldn’t live together, apparently.”
Kiana burst out laughing.
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely. Tammy says they’re demanding a crazy high price, but no one’s buying. The condo is old. The building’s shaky. So they’re still sitting there arguing.”
Kiana shook her head.
So they hadn’t been able to coexist after all.
Greed and mutual blame had done their work.
“Well, let them,” she said calmly. “I don’t care.”
And it was true.
She really didn’t care.
Darius and Ms. Sterling were in the past, and she didn’t want to stir up that past.
Spring came surprisingly early that year.
By March, streams were running along the curbs, the first grass was greening, and buds were opening on the trees lining her street.
Kiana went to work with a light heart, met Michael for coffee or walks, studied English, and read books.
Life was improving.
Not immediately, not all at once, but gradually.
Day by day, she learned to wake up without anxiety and fall asleep without heavy thoughts.
She learned to find joy in small things—a morning cup of coffee, a good book, the warm spring wind blowing through an open window.
In April, the kitchen renovation was finally finished.
Kiana stood in the middle of the updated space and looked around with satisfaction.
Bright cabinets, new appliances, convenient storage.
Everything turned out exactly as she had dreamed.
She invited Shauna over for a little housewarming.
Her friend came with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of tulips.
“Kiki, this is gorgeous,” Shauna exclaimed, examining the kitchen. “It looks like something out of a magazine.”
They sat late into the night talking, laughing, and reminiscing about the past.
Shauna suddenly asked,
“Listen, do you ever regret how things turned out with Darius?”
Kiana thought about it, looking into her glass of wine.
“You know, sometimes I regret the wasted time. But I don’t regret leaving. If I had stayed, it would have only gotten worse. They would have bled me dry for the rest of my days. But now I’m free.”
Shauna nodded.
“You did the right thing. You’re strong. Not every woman would have decided to act like that.”
Kiana smiled.
“I just realized one thing in time. You can’t live with people who see you as a wallet, not a person. You can’t forgive betrayal. Even if it’s your husband, even if you feel bad about the years you spent.”
Shauna raised her glass.
“To you, Kiki. To your strength and wisdom.”
They clinked glasses, and Kiana felt something inside quietly, finally healing.
A week later, Ms. Mabel called her.
Kiana was surprised.
The neighbor usually didn’t call—she just cornered her in the hallway to gossip.
“Kiki, hello. Listen, I just saw your ex. He was standing near the convenience store asking for a cigarette. He didn’t look so good—aged, drawn.”
