"Bye, Tristan," Evelyn sadly called out. Tristan didn't care about that though. He didn't say goodbye to Alan or Ahmad. He heard Gloria vaguely remind him of his meeting tomorrow with the board, but that didn't matter either. All he thought about was Dahlia. 

Dahlia. 

Dahlia. 

Dahlia.

As he drove, his mind wandered to the other instances when he explained his situation. It never went well. People never took it well when he told them that time travel existed and that he worked in that profession. They weren't happy about the fact that they'd never see him again.

"As if she'll care about you leaving now," his thoughts taunted. 

"Dahlia's different," he comforted himself, "She'll understand."

"What if she doesn't? What if she calls us crazy like Elizabeth? What if she screams like Aria?"

"No! She's different!" 

He took the stairs two at a time. His train of thought was cut short by the clanking of pots behind Dahlia's door. Cano was flying around and squawking inside.

"Cano, please! Stop that!" he'd never heard her so loud... so infuriated. Holding his breath, the man rapped twice on the door. Everything inside went quiet before the door opened slowly. He could see it in slow motion, her facade dropping and her lips twisting into a scowl. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she was still in her blouse and black dress pants.

"Yes?"

"I-" Tristan swallowed, willing his mind to calm down, "I want to explain."

"Mr. Antonov, please leave."

"I'm not leaving," Tristan stood his ground, "Listen to me!"

"My mother taught me to be respectful, don't force me to close the door in your face," she took a step backward but Tristan grabbed her arm.

"Dahlia ple-"

The man gasped as his back suddenly hit the wall. Dahlia's furious face filled his vision, his frame caged by her arms.

"Is this what you wanted, Tristan?! To see me angry?! To see me fail?!" he was so taken aback by her shouting that he couldn't do anything but stare with saucer-wide eyes, "Did you want to make me emotional?! Why did you do this, Tristan?! Why make me trust you?! Why get close to me?! ¡¿Por qué?! ¡¿Por qué, Tristan?!" 

Her voice was getting louder with each bark, her eyes a violent storm, her arms shaking. A part of Tristan's hazed mind wished he could beg her for forgiveness and show her how sorry he was.

"This job is all I have left, Tristan! The one thing keeping me sane! The one thing stopping me from wanting to burn this world to the ground!" Somewhere amidst the chaos, Cano started moving again and Tristan could vaguely discern the sound of his screeching. 

"I've nothing to be good for! Nothing to be nice for!" She was panting now, chest rising and falling as she removed her arms, setting Tristan free. She took a few steps back, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Tristan didn't move, paralyzed by her reaction. Paralyzed by the look on her face. She was so different at Kerzillion. Still very infuriated, but at least there she hid it with other emotions. Now, all Tristan saw was hatred. The eyes he adored so much were full of pure loathing. His heart broke at the sight but he willed himself to stand strong. He had to be calm. He had to be reasonable.

"Dahlia," he started in a neutral tone, "You're a sensible person. You know I wouldn't do this for the job position." He recalled what she'd told him about someone trying to sabotage her. 

"Deep down you know that!" Tristan was fighting every cell in his body to stop himself from holding Dahlia as she looked away, fighting off her tears. 

"When you're ready to hear my explanation, please inform me."

As he left the apartment, he wished he explained everything earlier. Dahlia wasn't like the others. She wouldn't freak out or cry if he told her that he'd leave in a few months. He regretted his decisions. He hated that he allowed himself to fall for her. He despised himself for making her like him. Regretted not telling her everything. He was reminded, for the third time, of why he was told not to fall in love. 

Fighting tears off his own, he slammed his car door shut. The drive home was unbearable. He would just ask corporate to leave now. The mission was done. There was no need for those three extra months. But how could he leave now? How could he leave without giving Dahlia an explanation?

Tristan thought he knew what love was. He thought he'd experienced it before. He was wrong. This was the first mission that he regretted doing. He'd sabotaged before. He ruined lives. He took lives. Yet, it was only this mission that filled him with self-loathing. He felt like taking his car off-road and into a deep, cold ocean.

He scoffed. Even in his darkest moments, he thought about oceans; the one thing he always associated with her. It never felt like this. Love never made him despise himself. He always felt sorry for ruining their lives but never hated himself for it.

Maybe that wasn't love. Maybe Tristan never loved those other women. Maybe he's only ever loved her. Dahlia. His paradise.

"Please call me, Dahlia," he whispered into the night, "I'm so sorry," his tears now fell freely, blurring his vision.

"I wish I never took this mission."

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This was supposed to be a warm story with a cute plot... I SWEAR I wasn't planning on writing three consecutive angst chapters. Sorry for that, but the next chapter will be not sad, promise. Anyhow,✨Cya✨