“Gone Without a Word”
“Emily! For heavens sake, whats going on?” James pressed her against the wall. Hed been waiting by the hospitals main entrance for over an hour.
“James, let me go,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “We shouldnt be together. Theres no future here. Dont look for meIve made up my mind.”
He was so stunned he couldnt speak. This wasnt the Emily he knew. Cold, distant, unyielding. Her eyes held none of the warmth hed loved. She slipped past him and walked away without a backward glance.
Just a week earlier, hed been planning to propose. Hed been certain she was the onebright, brilliant, his perfect match. Two years together, and theyd been the envy of their friends: a golden couple. James, a successful software architect; Emily, a sharp-witted surgical registrar. Everyone assumed theyd marry, settle into a picture-perfect life.
Then, without warning, it all fell apart.
Days before he was set to propose, Emily vanished. Her socials went dark, messages left unread. James called her, then her friends, then her fatheronly to hear vague excuses: “She cant come to the phone,” “Give her space.”
A week later, half-mad with desperation, he ambushed her outside the hospital. And all he got was: “Leave me.” No explanation. The silence was the worst partthe inexplicable cruelty from the woman hed thought was his soulmate.
This wasnt like her at all.
***
James had grown up in a modest terraced house, the son of a literature teacher and an engineer. His childhood was filled with books, logic puzzles, and his mother reading Asimov aloud at bedtime. From his dad, he inherited a love for systems; from his mum, an understanding of human nature.
After uni, he quickly became a sought-after tech consultant. His mantra: “Every chaotic system can be tamed by elegant code.” He believed in order, cause and effect, and the power of breaking problems into manageable bits.
His life was just as structured: morning runs along the Thames, work in a sleek Shoreditch co-working space, evenings cycling or climbing. He collected rare sci-fi first editions and could debate the merits of Darjeeling over Assam. His loft flat was minimalistexposed brick, a high-end projector instead of a telly, stacks of books everywhere.
Then Emily happenedthe one thing his logic couldnt explain.
Theyd met when his mate was under her care at the hospital.
Emily had been raised strictly. Her father, Colonel Edward Hartley (retired), later turned civil servant, drilled discipline and duty into her. At fifteen, she lost her mother to cancera renowned art historian whod passed on her love for Chopin and Turner.
Medicine was Emilys rebellion against death itself. In surgery, she was unflappable, respected for her steel nerves. But after brutal shifts, shed escape to her fathers crumbling countryside cottage, playing piano for hours to unwind.
Their first date lasted half a daystarted at a tech-art exhibition (where James showed off), ended in a jazz club (where Emily schooled him on Miles Davis). They bickered over Hitchcock vs. Kubrick, shared a weakness for black-and-white films.
James took her to lectures on quantum computing; she dragged him to anatomy labs (where even *his* stomach turned). Sundays meant his grandmothers pancake recipe and her custom coffee blend, smuggled in by a colleague from Kenya. Theyd sit on his windowsill, watching London wake up, silence fuller than any conversation.
One such morning, James knew he wanted forever with her. He ordered a ringplatinum, with an emerald to match her eyes. The day before he collected it, his perfect world cracked.
***
Emily hadnt seen it coming either.
After a gruelling surgery, two plainclothes officers intercepted her.
“Dr. Hartley, youre needed for questioning regarding an ongoing investigation.”
Her father stood accused of procurement fraud. The lead investigator, knowing of her ties to James, leaned in:
“Your boyfriends a public figureclean record, transparent business. Any link to you or your family now risks implicating him. Ill ruin his career, his reputation, *him* if necessary. Understand?”
Emily weighed the risks instantly. The choice was obvious. To protect James, she had to vanishclean, quick, no loose ends. She shut off her heart. This was just another emergency procedure, with James as the patient and silence as her scalpel.
When he cornered her at the hospital, she spoke as she would to grieving relatives: clinical, final, no room for hope.
***
It took James two years to resurface. He travelled, forced smiles, dated half-heartedly. His loft felt too empty; he never made pancakes again.
Then, at a work event, a text lit up his phone:
*James, its Emily. Ive no right to reach out. But if youve a momentmay I call?*
His pulse raced. He ducked into the hotels quiet conservatory and dialled.
She spilled everything in one breaththe threats, her choice, her fear for his future. The voice thatd been ice two years ago now trembled.
“I dont expect forgiveness. I stole our chance to fight this together. But I couldnt risk you. It was illogical, but it was all I could think to do. I loved you. I *had* to.”
James pressed his forehead to the glass. Anger, pity, relief tangled inside him.
“You shouldve *trusted* me! Wed have hired lawyers, fought”
“And if wed lost?” she cut in. “Your safety mattered more than us. I was wrong. But Id choose wrong again to protect you.”
“Meet me,” he said.
They talked for hours in their old café. Between them: two years of hurt. But in her eyes, he saw *his* Emilynot the ice queen, but the woman whod shattered herself to shield him.
No grand reunion. Too much damage.
They stuck to safe topicswork, medicine, books. As they parted, he slid her a small parcel. Inside: a first-edition Asimov shed once hunted for her father.
“Thank you,” she whispered, clutching it. “This means a lot.”
“I know,” he said, his gaze a mix of understanding and lingering hurt. “Hows your dad?”
“Case dropped. He retired. Coping.”
They hesitated in the chilly air.
“Maybe coffee sometime?” James ventured.
Emily nodded, throat too tight to speak.
They walked opposite waysbut this time, both glanced back.
Their story hadnt ended. It had only paused. Now, pain and all, they had a shot at a new chapter.
