Haye

ng I would be okay. The lie tasted like ash in my mouth, but it was a necessary one. Now, the apar

ce tears felt like it had been surgically rem

te wooden box from under the bed. The letters 'E&A' were

our first movie. The cheap silver necklace he gave me for our first anniversary. Dozens of sketches for

wept. The new me looked at its contents as if they were ar

ear them up. That felt too emotional, too dramatic. Inst

click for every single sketch. It felt like a post-mortem. I was the coroner, documenting the cause of death for a relationship that had been poisoned from the

, encrypted album on my phon

sical weight had been lifted from my soul. The last remnants of the girl

he was a stranger, but she was my stranger. And somewhere beneath the blank space where Ethan us

ainst the wood of the box. A

tomorrow morning.

sheer arrogance of it made a bitter laugh esca

in a fit of anger. I simply long-pr

d up. Mute.

*Block*. Then *Delete Contact*. In less than three

ctures of us, pictures of desserts I'd made for him. It was nauseating

e field. I thought for a moment,

oen

shes. It f

t on the counter. Valrhona chocolate. Tahitian vanilla beans. In the pre-dawn silenc

sert inspired by shattered glass and the stubborn vines that grow

a man who didn't deserve them. I took a photo, the lightin

enix account. No profile pictu

t "P

throom, and stepped into the shower, letting