Goodbye to the Man I Sewed For - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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On my last day before leaving, I found myself drawn to the riverbank in Gotham—the very spot where Ethan had once planned to propose.
The place was quiet, almost eerily so. The wind whipped fiercely along the water, cutting through my thin coat as I stood there, lost in thought.
My phone buzzed with yet another paparazzi leak—photos of Ethan and Linda, caught in a passionate kiss outside her private residence. Even from the back, I knew it was him. Their embrace was tight, her smile radiant.
The internet exploded with cheers and congratulations, as if the whole world was celebrating their love.
More updates flooded in.
Ethan and Linda, arms linked, dressed in matching outfits at a wrap party. His hand cupped her face tenderly, unbothered by the cameras flashing around them.
Then I saw it—the necklace. The one I had loved, the one Ethan and I had admired together in the store.
"You're not photogenic enough for something this expensive," he'd said. "It'd be a waste."
I'd gone back to buy it myself, only to find it sold.
Now it hung around Linda's neck.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
I walked to the water's edge, slipping off the cheap bracelet Ethan had given me when he first confessed his feelings. For five years, I'd treated it like treasure—removing it during work, polishing it carefully, believing love wasn't about price tags.
How wrong I'd been.
With a flick of my wrist, I sent it into the river. It disappeared without a sound.
One last look at the churning water, and I turned away.
By 10 AM, my suitcase was packed.
While Ethan and Linda toasted under the spotlight, I stepped into the cold wind, leaving every memory—every ounce of love and resentment—behind.
I left a handwritten note agreeing to the breakup, though I doubted he'd even come home to see it. Then, one by one, I took scissors to the fifty outfits I'd sewn for him, shreds of fabric littering the floor like confetti at a funeral.
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
I boarded the plane and never looked back.
That evening, Ethan realized I'd blocked him on everything. The moment the wrap party ended, he stormed home, furious, ready for a fight—convinced I'd never walk away.
After all, I'd loved him too much to let go.
Or so he thought.
The place was quiet, almost eerily so. The wind whipped fiercely along the water, cutting through my thin coat as I stood there, lost in thought.
My phone buzzed with yet another paparazzi leak—photos of Ethan and Linda, caught in a passionate kiss outside her private residence. Even from the back, I knew it was him. Their embrace was tight, her smile radiant.
The internet exploded with cheers and congratulations, as if the whole world was celebrating their love.
More updates flooded in.
Ethan and Linda, arms linked, dressed in matching outfits at a wrap party. His hand cupped her face tenderly, unbothered by the cameras flashing around them.
Then I saw it—the necklace. The one I had loved, the one Ethan and I had admired together in the store.
"You're not photogenic enough for something this expensive," he'd said. "It'd be a waste."
I'd gone back to buy it myself, only to find it sold.
Now it hung around Linda's neck.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
I walked to the water's edge, slipping off the cheap bracelet Ethan had given me when he first confessed his feelings. For five years, I'd treated it like treasure—removing it during work, polishing it carefully, believing love wasn't about price tags.
How wrong I'd been.
With a flick of my wrist, I sent it into the river. It disappeared without a sound.
One last look at the churning water, and I turned away.
By 10 AM, my suitcase was packed.
While Ethan and Linda toasted under the spotlight, I stepped into the cold wind, leaving every memory—every ounce of love and resentment—behind.
I left a handwritten note agreeing to the breakup, though I doubted he'd even come home to see it. Then, one by one, I took scissors to the fifty outfits I'd sewn for him, shreds of fabric littering the floor like confetti at a funeral.
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
I boarded the plane and never looked back.
That evening, Ethan realized I'd blocked him on everything. The moment the wrap party ended, he stormed home, furious, ready for a fight—convinced I'd never walk away.
After all, I'd loved him too much to let go.
Or so he thought.
End of Goodbye to the Man I Sewed For Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Goodbye to the Man I Sewed For book page.