Chapter 12:Undeniable truth

Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains as Lilian sat at the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Raymond had already left for work, but her mind lingered on what he had told her the night before—Dennis is resigning.

She hadn't thought much of it in the moment, but now, with the silence of the house surrounding her, the weight of those words settled in. Why would Dennis resign? She had never imagined him leaving. He was dedicated, passionate about teaching. What could have changed?

A part of her wanted to ignore the thought, but curiosity gnawed at her. Should I call him? The idea lingered as she made her way to the kitchen. She busied herself with breakfast, but her mind kept circling back. Was it something personal? Was he struggling? Had something happened at school?

By mid-morning, she finally gave in and picked up her phone. Her fingers hovered over Dennis' contact before she pressed the call button.

It rang once. Twice. Then, just as she was about to hang up, his voice came through.

"Lilian?" His tone was calm, yet there was something in it—something distant.

"Raymond told me... you're resigning." She didn't dance around it. She needed to hear it from him.

There was a pause on the other end. A deep sigh. Then, finally, Dennis spoke.

"I just think it's time, Lilian. That's all."

"Time for what?" she pressed.

Another silence. Then, softer this time, he admitted, "Time to let go."

The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Then Lilian finally spoke, her voice firm but laced with concern. "Why would you want to resign, Dennis? What is wrong with you? After everything you've put into that school—after everything we've built together—you're just going to throw it all away?"

Dennis exhaled, a weary sound filled with emotions he had long tried to suppress. "Lilian," he said, his voice quieter now, "every corner of that school reminds me of you. I miss you."

Lilian's breath hitched. Her grip on the phone tightened. Those words—simple yet heavy—made her heart ache in a way she hadn't expected. "I miss you too." The confession slipped out before she could stop it. And the moment she said it, she knew she had stirred something in him—something raw and painful.

Dennis let out a shaky breath, his voice strained. "Lilian… hearing that from you… it hurts. I can't do this anymore. I can't concentrate. Everywhere I turn, I see us. The memories won't fade. And I know…" He hesitated, his voice breaking slightly. "I know that my silence cost me you."

His words pierced her. A sharp, undeniable pang of guilt settled in her chest. She was happy in her marriage—Raymond loved her, cherished her—but Dennis… Dennis was making her feel something she didn't want to face. His pain was real. His regret was deep. And in some ways, it was a burden she unknowingly carried too.

She swallowed hard. "Dennis, I—"

"I have to go." His voice was distant now, like he had already begun to retreat. "Take care, Lilian."

And then the call ended.

Lilian stared at the screen, her heart pounding. She had entered this conversation seeking answers, but now, she was left with questions—questions she wasn't sure she was ready to answer.

She took a deep breath, pushing back the emotions threatening to rise. No, she told herself. I can't go down that road again.

But as she sat there, staring into nothing, she knew that a part of her already had.

Lilian couldn't get the conversation out of her head. No matter how much she tried to push it aside, Dennis' voice lingered, his pain echoing in her mind.

Had she made a mistake by calling him?

She had only wanted to understand why he was resigning. But now, she felt trapped in a storm of emotions she hadn't expected.

Was it just pity? Did she simply feel sorry for him? Or… was it something more?

It was hard to tell which was which.

She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. What am I supposed to do?

There was only one person she could turn to—her mother. They were close, and if anyone could help her make sense of this, it was her.

Without hesitation, she dialed.

The moment her mother picked up, she could tell she had been expecting this.

"Lilian?" her mother's voice was calm but concerned. "I had a feeling something was wrong. What's going on?"

Lilian swallowed hard. "It's Dennis. He… he's not okay, Mom. And I don't know what to do."

There was a pause. Then, gently, her mother asked, "Do you want to help him… or do you just want to ease your guilt?"

The question stung. It forced Lilian to confront the very thing she had been avoiding.

What do I really want?

She let out a shaky breath. "I just… I just need someone to check on him. Someone who isn't me."

She thought of her sister, Emily. If anyone could help, it was her. But then the realization hit—Emily would never agree to it.And with that, the weight of everything settled even heavier on Lilian's chest.

She felt lost.

"Lilian," her mother said gently, "you can't carry everyone's pain. Not Dennis', not the past. You have to be sure of what you're doing. Otherwise, you'll only make things harder for both of you."

Lilian closed her eyes. She knew her mother was right. But that didn't make it any easier.

Dennis sat in his dimly lit apartment, the phone still in his hand, though the call had long since ended. His fingers clenched around it as if holding on to something he had already lost.

Hearing Lilian's voice again should have brought him comfort, but instead, it tore him apart.

"I miss you too."

Those four words had shattered him.

He leaned back against the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was a cruel thing—to miss someone who had already moved on, to ache for something that could never be his.

Why did she call?

Did she pity him? Was she just being kind? Or… was there something in her heart that even she didn't fully understand?

It didn't matter. No matter what he told himself, the truth remained the same. She was happy. She had Raymond. And he had nothing but memories that refused to fade.

Dennis ran a hand over his face, his chest tightening. He had tried to be strong. Tried to move on. But the school—the place where they had spent so much time together—was a constant reminder of what he had lost. Walking through those hallways, passing by the classrooms where they had once stood side by side… it was unbearable.

His silence had cost him a million. He had admitted it to her, and in doing so, he had reopened a wound that never truly healed.

Now, sitting alone in the quiet of his apartment, he felt that pain more than ever.

I have to leave.

Not just the school. Maybe even the city.

Because as long as she was here, as long as she was within reach but never his, he would never escape this torment.