CHERYL'S POV
I woke up to a house of blessed silence.
No awkward run-ins. No tense, unsaid words hanging in the air like ghosts. No Aiden.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the relief like it was freshly brewed coffee. The air had been thick ever since last night—ever since I dropped the bomb that I was moving out. If tension could be bottled and sold, our apartment could’ve been a freaking factory.
And let’s not talk about the fact that after I thought he had disappeared into his room—with that blonde he dragged home—I had gotten up for a glass of water and almost face-planted into him in the dimly lit kitchen.
Talk about bad luck.
There we were, standing in a painfully awkward silence. Him, grabbing a juice carton. Me, clutching my glass of water like it was my emotional support bever
