de Liana Carter's window pulsed forward as if nothing had happened. Taxis splashed through puddles.
e half-unzipped suitcase by the door. Her life had been reduced to a few ba
was
g, no slammed doors, no grand confrontation. Just silence.
ion when he realized she was standing in the doorway. That moment-the unraveling of
t felt like the hundredth time. She didn
I can e
ease, ta
making this wo
s, but curiosity was cruel. She wouldn't respond. What was there
own, s
o be. The way he'd stopped meeting her halfway, the excuses, the missed dinners, t
office. Her mind, her drive, her command in meetings. But Ryan's affair had been wit
s if overcompensating for the awkwardness. Then came the "restructuring" email. Suddenly, she wasn't leading projects
ign to her-sterile white walls, minimal furniture, a strange smell like old paper and lem
takeout, and a few eggs she hadn't touched. She poured a glass of wine, wat
s to her chest. Her reflection in the black screen of the TV stared back at her: tired eyes, blotch
like a well-structured project-goals, deadlin
t into her lap, not to check emails-she couldn't bear the thought-but to do som
s is
rds. Blun
. But the version of herself that tolerated red flags in the name of love. The version who sa
y he made her feel seen. She wrote about their first apartment, their shared routines, and the way he used to leave her notes on the bathroom mirror. She
voice. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the floor. The city outside changed r
the door s
ached. Through the pee
ened th
sy takeout bags and a soft smile. "I b
ide without a wor
e talked about work gossip and trashy reality shows, giving Lia
ually, it
d me," Liana whispe
r reassurances. She just reach
him," she said gently. "But you? H
yes stung.
ted, voice cracking. "I just lef
ou strong. Anyone can scream. But it takes strengt
taring at the ceiling. The quiet was still there, but it felt
r heart still hurt. Her job felt
ome. And she'd face i
er under, she whispered into the
Not yet. But it was s