Mira lay stretched across the bed, one hand draped over her eye, the other absently scrolling through her phone.
Jenny had convinced her to take a day off and somehow, she found herself here.
She didn’t mean to open Adrian’s page.
It just… happened.
His profile loaded slowly, as if even the app hesitated.
The first thing she saw was a photo from earlier that day—Adrian standing beside Ivy, his hand carefully placed over her swollen belly, his expression soft, attentive.
The caption spoke of gratitude.
Of blessings.
Of family.
Mira stared at it longer than she meant to.
They looked peaceful together, happy—like a real couple.
She laughed dryly, then kept scrolling.
She saw another post, another smile, another carefully curated moment of devotion.
It was strange, she thought distantly, how easy it was to look like a good man when no one could hear the silences behind closed doors.
Her thumb slowed.
Then stopped.
A much older photo filled her screen.
The proposal.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
Adrian was on one knee, younger, brighter somehow.
She remembered that day vividly—the way her hands had shaken, the way she’d cried before he even finished speaking.
The caption sat beneath the image, unchanged by time.
‘I promise to give you the world.
Every city, every sky you’ve ever dreamed of.
We’ll travel together.
Always.’
Mira swallowed.
She scrolled through the comments.
The congratulations.
The hearts.
The well-wishes. Get faster updates on g.com.
She remembered how she’d believed him.
How she’d spent nights pinning destinations, tracing routes on maps, whispering places she wanted to see—Paris, Rome, Kyoto, Marrakesh.
How he’d laughed, kissed her forehead, and told her they had all the time in the world.
But time had passed.
And the world had stayed exactly where it was.
Her chest tightened—not with heartbreak, but with something quieter.
Grief, maybe.
For the woman who had waited.
For the dream that had slowly, silently died.
She locked her phone and let it fall onto the bed beside her.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Mira?” Jenny’s voice drifted through.
“You decent?”
“Yeah,” she replied, sitting up.
“Come in.”
Jenny stepped inside, two cups of tea in hand.
She took one look at Mira’s expression and didn’t ask questions.
Just handed her a cup and sat beside her.
“Bad scroll?” she asked gently.
Mira huffed out a breath.
“The worst kind.”
Jenny waited patiently for her friend to continue.
“He promised to take me around the world,” Mira said quietly.
“Said we’d travel everywhere I ever wanted.
I believed him.”
Jenny snorted softly.
“Men say a lot of things when they’re trying to secure the future version of you.”
Mira smiled faintly at that.
“I kept waiting,” she continued.
“Thinking there’d be a right time.
After this obligation.
After that responsibility.
And suddenly, years were gone.”
Jenny turned toward her fully now. The source of this chapter is g.com.
“Then don’t wait anymore.”
Mira looked at her.
“Go,” Jenny said simply.
“Travel.
See everything you ever wanted to see.”
“With what?” Mira scoffed.
“A broken marriage and a half-finished exit plan?”
“With freedom,” Jenny corrected.
“Which is far more valuable.”
Mira hesitated.
“I don’t want to go alone.”
Jenny grinned instantly.
“Good.
Because you’re not.”
Mira blinked.
“What?”
“I’ll go with you,” Jenny said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“We’ll start small.
A city or two.
No pressure.
No expectations.
Just… living.”
Mira stared at her, something warm unfurling in her chest.
“You’d do that?” she asked.
Jenny raised a brow.
“Please.
I’ve been waiting for you to stop shrinking your life for a man who couldn’t even keep a promise.”
A laugh bubbled out of Mira before she could stop it.
A real laugh.
“Okay,” she said softly.
“Okay.”
Jenny clinked her cup gently against Mira’s.
“To seeing the world.”
Mira lifted her tea, smiling.
Not for Adrian.
Not for the woman she used to be.
But for herself.