I bit my lip, exhaling slowly, before pulling out my phone to contact a courier. I had already planned to move out, and it was time to start arranging for a pickup.

I'd accumulated a lot of belongings over the three years I'd lived here, and moving everything at once wasn't possible. So, I decided to take things step by step.

The next afternoon, as I handed the first set of packages to the delivery person at the door, Yohann unexpectedly returned. His face was stern, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the boxes.

He looked at me stiffly, his voice tight. "Are you sending something?"

I signed the receipt and answered dismissively, "Yes."

If he had paid closer attention, he would've noticed that some of the furniture in the living room was already missing. But he didn't notice. He simply grabbed some documents from the desk and left again without another word.

For the next few days, Yohann didn't come back. There were no calls, no messages. Just silence.

But I saw updates on his social media.

Apparently, he and Zandria had gone on a trip together. They visited places I had never been to, and they took photos I had never had the chance to take. In every picture, they looked so carefree, so happy—like nothing else in the world mattered.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly to myself as I scrolled through their posts. After a brief pause, I clicked the "like" button on one of them. That small gesture was my silent blessing, a way of saying goodbye without uttering a word.

After that, I went back to what I had been doing—packing the last of my belongings into my suitcase. The time had come for me to move on, to leave this chapter behind for good.

As I finished up and reached for my phone again, I noticed a new message from Yohann, sent just three minutes ago.

[Once you've thought about apologizing to Zandria, come find me] He wrote, followed by a location in a nearby city.

I stared at the screen for a moment before replying calmly. [I won't bother you two. Have a good trip]

After a brief pause, I typed again. [Oh, and I've transferred my portion of the rent to you. Please accept it.]

I sent him the money for the time I'd lived here, cutting the last financial tie between us.

A minute later, my phone buzzed again. It was Yohann, responding with confusion. "?"

I didn't reply.

Another message came shortly after: [Ysha, what's the meaning of this?]