NovelEnglishChapter 30 The Day She Chose to Leave
The immigration officer finally let out a breath of relief when Jensen confirmed his connection to Natalie.
“Mr. Luke, Miss Natalie Summers had filed an application for travel documents with us. Everything's approved
now, but we haven't been able to contact her. Should we mail it to her hor will you pick it up?”
Jensen froze.
“Travel documents? When did she apply?”
“Ten days ago.”
The words hit him like a brick.
Ten days ago? That was the day.
The day he married Sharon.
The day he left Natalie behind on her birthday.
He felt a sharp chill crawl up his spine.
“And... how did she look that day? Was she okay?”
The officer sounded slightly puzzled. “I'm sorry, Mr. Luke. We handle too many clients each day to recall
individuals clearly.”
Jensen didn’t press further. He ended the call.
“Takehome.”
Since Natalie's death, he'd been holed up at the hospital. A part of him couldn't face going back to their shared
space
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the pain was too sharp.
But now... now he needed to go back.
He needed to see everything they once had.
Because Natalie... Natalie was the one he loved.
She had always been the one.
From the moment he first saw her - broken, cowering, bleeding in the Summers family’s backyard - he'd wanted
to protect her, to be her light.
So why had he let Sharon drag him into that street race?
Because he'd been young, impulsive, and a little too proud.
Sharon had admired wild, reckless men. She loved danger then, in a way Natalie never did.
the thrill, the spotlight. She had adored him
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Natalie had been shy, like a touch-me-not. Sharon had burned like fire.
He craved that fire back then. He raced to impress her, to prove himself. But it nearly killed him.
And when it did, Sharon disappeared. Left the country. Went off with someone else.
Only Natalie had stayed.
She begged Witch Doctor to save him. She sacrificed everything.
Sharon had only returned when he was on the brink of death - to donate a rib. That single act had complicated
everything, tangled guilt with gratitude.
But the love? That had always belonged to Natalie.
All these years, everything he gave -
the pampering, the gifts, the attention
it was always for Natalie.
Wasn't that enough?
Back home, the place they'd called hfor five years, Jensen opened the door and instantly knew something
was wrong.
Something was missing.
He walked around aimlessly, until he noticed it: the wind chby the floor-to-ceiling window was gone.
Those were the thousand paper cranes Natalie had folded by hand while he lay unconscious in the hospital,
recovering from the accident.
He'd had them made into a wind chand hung it there - not for show, but as a symbol.
Those paper cranes weren't worth much, not like the expensive gifts women usually gave him. But they meant
something. They were pure.
They were them.
And now they were gone.
“Who took down the paper crane wind chime?!”
He tore through the penthouse like a madman, opening drawers, closets, boxes crane left.
Then his eyes landed on the Alexa speaker sitting on the table.
nothing. Not a single
That video Natalie had shown at the press conference... it cfrom Alexa, didn’t it?
He yanked out his phone.
She'd set up his access when she first bought it. He’d never even opened the app.
until now.
He logged in and scrolled to the footage from ten days ago.
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He saw himself leaving after getting Sharon's call. He saw Natalie standing there, heartbroken and motionless.
She made a call.
“I accept the training offer from Grant International Holdings. I'm leaving Jensen for good.”
That sentence punched Jensen straight in the chest.
“What? Just because | left you for Sharon once, on your birthday, you decide to abandonforever? Natalie,
how could you be so cruel? Was our love worth nothing to you?”
He thought back to what the immigration officer said.
Yes ten days ago. That was when she decided to go.
Her mind was made up, even before the fire.
Jensen’s eyes were bloodshot. His breath shook. Hot tears streamed down his face, impossible to stop.
“How could you do this to me? We promised we'd be together forever.”
He curled up on the couch, phone still in hand, grief etched into every inch of his face like a wounded animal too
broken to cry out.
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