Year Five: The Perfect Goodbye Plan novel Chapter 3

Silvia pushed down the tangle of emotions in her chest and spoke softly, “Alright, I’ll go.”

With Shipley’s childhood friends egging her on, she couldn’t find a reasonable excuse to refuse. Besides, she would be leaving soon. Whatever time was left, these would be her last moments with Shipley. She told herself this was just a farewell before she went.-

She changed and got ready to head out with him. Once in the car, her eyes fell, by chance, on his keychain—a little pink-and-white bunny. In an inconspicuous spot, the initials “VW” were etched in silver. It was obvious Vianne had given it to him.

Shipley had used that keychain for years, yet it looked as though he’d just gotten it yesterday. Silvia had never known where it came from. She remembered once, half-joking, mentioning she wanted it. Shipley had just grinned and teased her, “Sweet Silvia, this is something really important to me. What will you trade for it?”

She hadn’t understood back then, just felt a bit sulky that he couldn’t even give up a silly keychain for her. But now she realized just how much it meant to him.

Shipley caught her staring and laughed. “What, still eyeing my keychain? If you like it that much, I’ll have another one made for you.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners, bright and gentle. Once, Silvia had loved those eyes most of all. Now, she realized it was probably those very eyes that had made her believe she was loved, when maybe she never was.

She was quiet for a long moment, then shook her head. “No need, Shipley. I’m past the age of wanting things like that.”

The keychain, his affection—she didn’t need any of it anymore.

Shipley just ruffled her hair, still smiling, and started the car toward the club.

They arrived late. The lounge was already bustling with people. As soon as Silvia walked in, everyone began to tease her.

“See, only you could’ve convinced Shipley to come out tonight. He would’ve ditched us for sure otherwise.”

Shipley slipped an arm around her shoulders as they sat down. The lighting was dim, but he looked as composed and distinguished as ever, cool and effortlessly superior. Amid the crowd, he was impossible to miss.

He knew Silvia was shy, uncomfortable with too much attention, so he deflected their teasing with practiced ease. “You guys have been drinking—don’t get too close to Sweet Silvia, you reek of beer.”

“Exactly!” someone chimed in, grinning. “Silvia doesn’t drink, does she? Juice or milk? I’ll have someone bring it over.”

Shipley rarely let her touch alcohol. He gently patted her head and asked in a low voice, “Milk, alright?”

His voice was warm, his gaze soft as ever. Since childhood, Silvia had always been drawn in by that gentleness. But tonight, it just felt empty—a sweetness meant for a child, not for her.

“Either is fine,” she answered quietly.

A glass of milk arrived quickly. The others were thoughtful, even making sure not to smoke near her, and kept their crude jokes to themselves. Yet Silvia couldn’t help feeling out of place, disconnected from it all.

Shipley noticed and leaned in, voice gentle. “Sweet Silvia, are you feeling alright?”

Everyone turned to look at her, concern on their faces.

“You okay, Silvia? We can get a little noisy when we’re together—hope we’re not overwhelming you.”

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