Elena’s pov
I zipped my suitcase open and stared at it on my bed.
Tomorrow morning, I would be on a plane with Damien.
My ex-husband.
I had no idea how I was supposed to act around him.
But honestly?
Right now, Singapore felt more like an escape than anything else.
An escape from my head.
From the mess I let myself fall into.
It was Saturday evening and I was folding clothes like a robot.
My body worked while my mind replayed the past two weeks in a loop I couldn’t stop.
Two weeks since the game, two weeks since that kiss.
Two weeks of Caleb slowly slipping away from me.
It didn’t happen all at once, it started small.
Shorter replies, longer pauses between texts, calls that never came, and when we did talk, it was always brushed off with some new excuse.
I kept pretending I was fine, telling myself that he was just busy.
That athletes have insane schedules and that I shouldn’t read into it.
But I did.
God, I did.
I felt it in the small moments, checking my phone too often, re-reading his last message even though I already knew it by heart, lying awake at midnight wondering what exactly I did wrong.
The last time we actually spoke, not texted but spoke, was five days ago.
It was short and awkward.
He sounded distracted, he said he’d call me back.
He didn’t.
That was Monday.
Today is Saturday.
Three days ago, I decided to stop texting first.
I told myself if he wanted to talk, he’d call.
He didn’t.
My phone sat on the nightstand, silent like it was mocking me.
I folded another shirt, and shoved it into the suitcase.
I just needed to get through this trip.
Work had been hell, my head was a mess, and this deal felt like it carried my entire career.
Meanwhile, Damien had been… professional, surprisingly.
We only spoke during briefings.
He kept things short and polite.
No arguments, no tension.
Just… nothing.
I slipped the divorce papers into my carry on.
My phone rang and I jumped, grabbing it too fast, hoping it was Caleb.
It wasn’t.
It was Adrian.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound normal.
“Hey. Just checking on you before your flight tomorrow.”
We talked about work first.
The Meridian deal, the numbers, the boring parts.
Then his tone changed.
“Oh, Aunt Catherine left town again.”
I froze mid-fold.
“Since when?”
”This morning.
Something urgent in London.”
I let out a breath I’d been holding for days.
“Good. I really didn’t want to deal with her showing up at the office while I’m gone.”
Adrian laughed.
“Who does? That woman was sent by the devil.”
”She’ll probably still find a way to complain from across the ocean.”
”Oh definitely.
She’ll legit facetime just to insult your outfit.”
We burst out laughing.
I actually laughed, it felt weird.
Then he went quiet for a moment.
“So… the trip.”
I groaned.
“Adrian, don’t start.”
”I’m just saying… four days with Damien is a lot.”
”I know.
But it’s work.
Nothing else.”
He didn’t sound convinced but he let it go.
“Are you okay though? You sound… off.”
I sat on the bed, staring at the half-packed suitcase.
“I’m fine.”
”Elena…”
”I’m just tired,” I said, softer.
He hesitated.
“Have you talked to Caleb?”
My chest tightened.
“Not really.”
”Not really or not at all?”
”Adrian…”
”I swear, if I see him, I’m kicking his ass.”
I smiled even though my throat hurt.
“Don’t.”
”I’m serious.
Ghosting you after that whole game day?
That’s bullshit.”
I laid back on my bed, closing my eyes.
“Maybe he just got busy…”
”For two weeks?
Elena, come on.”
I didn’t want to talk about this.
I couldn’t talk about it without tearing up.
Why was Caleb doing this to me?
“I need to finish packing.”
He sighed.
“Okay. Just text me when you land.”
”I will.”
”And Elena?
If Damien steps out of line even once…”
”I can handle Damien,” I cut in.
“I know you can. I’m just saying you don’t have to handle everything alone.”
My throat tightened.
“Thanks.”
We hung up, and I stared at the phone in my hand before scrolling through my contacts and stopping on his name.
Caleb.
Demand something, clarity, honesty.
Anything.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t handle that kind of conversation right now.
I’d been down this road with Damien before.
If Caleb cared, he’d call.
And if he didn’t well…
I set my phone down and walked to my closet to grab more clothes and that’s when I saw it.
Caleb’s jersey.
It was still hanging where I left it after the game.
I stepped closer, touching the fabric.
It still smelled like him, clean, warm.
I remembered the way he looked at me when I wore it, how that night felt like the beginning of something good.
Something I wasn’t sure I deserved.
I should put it away.
Pack it, hide it, move on, focus on Singapore.
Focus on the deal.
Focus on finally making Damien sign those papers.
But I couldn’t let go, even though it felt like he already had.
My phone buzzed on the bed and my stupid heart jumped again.
I grabbed it too fast, my hands shaking a little.
It was just my flight reminder.
I exhaled, locked the screen, and set the phone on the nightstand then turned off the light.
The jersey stayed where it was, hanging in the dark like a memory I didn’t know what to do with.
I climbed into bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn’t come.
My mind kept circling everything I should’ve said, what I maybe did wrong.
Maybe I moved too fast.
Maybe the jersey was too much.
Maybe the kiss scared him.
Or maybe he just realized I’m not worth the complication.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax.
Tomorrow I’d be on a plane, far away from all of this.
Maybe Singapore was exactly what I needed.
Distance.
I pulled the covers up, trying not to think about Caleb.
But the harder I tried, the more useless it felt.