You Were Better When I Was Gone Chapter 09
The day Luke left, he sent me a very long message.
I didn’t open it. Just scrolled past.
I caught the first few words: “Sarah, from high school until now…”
Enough. I was done with from high school until now.
June. London’s summer was unexpectedly clear. Phase one of the project delivered, and client feedback exceeded expectations.
At the review meeting, the Director announced that phase two’s contract value had doubled, and I’d still lead it.
Afterward, colleagues congratulated me. Someone joked: “Sarah, if you keep this up, you might open a branch office here.”
“Maybe.”
Emma beamed like a proud mom. “I knew you’d make it.”
That night, we split a bottle of red wine on the balcony.
Emma asked: “Do you regret coming to London?”
“Guess.”
“No.”
“Nope.”
“So what’s next? Staying here long-term? Going back?”
I looked toward the Thames in the distance. “No idea. One step at a time.”
“What about your Luke?”
“He’s not my Luke.”
“Come on.” Emma clinked her glass against mine. “I saw him through the peephole that day. Not bad-looking.”
“Looking good isn’t enough.”
“True.” Emma shrugged. “If he’s not good to you, it’s nothing.”
I laughed and finished my wine.
Early July, Nathan formally confirmed his investment interest in our company.
After the first round of due diligence with my Director, he came back and said: “Your boss thinks very highly of you.”
“Really?”
“He said the company had been stuck on this front before you came, you were the one who made the model work.”
I didn’t respond.
He looked at me. “Sarah, do you know what your problem is?”
“What?”
“You still don’t quite believe you deserve to be recognized.”
I paused.
“Every time someone praises you, your first reaction isn’t ‘thank you’, it’s ‘really?'”
“…Old habit.”
“Habits can change.”
He smiled and changed the subject. “By the way, a friend of mine has an art exhibition next weekend. Interested?”
“What kind?”
“Contemporary. Honestly I don’t get it either. Just going for the vibe.”
“Let’s go.”
Mid-July. At that exhibition, I ran into someone I absolutely didn’t expect to see in London, Sophie.
She wore a floral sundress, her hair permed into little curls, standing at the entrance smiling at me. “Sarah! What a coincidence!”
My mind went blank for three seconds. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m traveling!” She linked her arm through mine like old times. “You never answered my messages, so I decided to just fly here and see you myself.”
Nathan walked up from behind and glanced at Sophie. “Friend of yours?”
Sophie looked up at him, eyes lighting up. “Hi, I’m Sophie, Sarah’s best friend. And you are?”
“Nathan, Sarah’s classmate.”
Sophie’s smile widened. “A classmate! Let’s all look around together?”
Naturally, she slid herself between Nathan and me.
I looked at her face, not a trace of guilt. I took a deep breath. The most familiar scene of the past eight years, she arrives, and all the oxygen belongs to her.
But this time, it was different.
“Sophie,” I said, “do you have his contact info yet?”
“Not yet”
“Then get it later.” I moved to Nathan’s other side. “We’ll go ahead.”
Sophie’s smile froze. Just for a second.
Then she recovered and followed us inside.
But I felt her gaze, on my back. Probing. Unhappy.
I didn’t look back.