Chapter 7: Words Left Unsaid
It had been three months since Wisdom left for Italy.
At first, the distance wasn't so bad — they called every night, laughed about their days, and sent each other photos of everything from sunsets to morning coffee.
But slowly… things started to change.
Wisdom got busier with his project, often working late. Sometimes Future would wait up just to hear his voice — but the calls grew shorter, the texts fewer.
One night, she called him for the fourth time, and it went straight to voicemail. Again.
She sighed, hugging her pillow. "Maybe he's just busy," she whispered to herself. But her heart didn't believe it.
The next morning, she opened Instagram — and froze.
A photo.
Wisdom smiling beside a beautiful Italian woman, holding building blueprints, the caption reading:
> "Teamwork makes dreams work 🇮🇹💫"
Future's heart clenched. She knew it was innocent — probably his colleague — but jealousy and loneliness don't listen to reason.
She didn't call that night. Neither did he.
Two days passed. Silence.
Finally, her phone buzzed.
> Wisdom: "Future, what's going on? You've been quiet."
Future: "I should ask you that. Seems like you've got better company now."
He replied almost instantly.
> Wisdom: "You mean Chiara? She's my assistant on the project. Future, seriously?"
Future: "It's not just that, Wisdom. You barely call anymore. You forgot my presentation last week."
There was a pause before he responded.
> Wisdom: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I've just been… trying to make this work. For us."
Future stared at the screen, her chest heavy.
> Future: "Sometimes it feels like you left me, not just London."
He didn't reply right away. When he finally did, the words were soft but hurtful.
> Wisdom: "Maybe we just need space."
She dropped her phone. The tears came quietly this time — not loud, just slow and steady.
That night, she walked through the rain without an umbrella, just like the day they met.
Only this time, there was no one to hand her one.
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