A week later. The house was quiet. Too quiet for what tonight meant.
Eve moved through the rooms with calm precision, each step purposeful. The wardrobe stood open, its shelves half-emptied, dresses folded neatly into her suitcase. She worked without hesitation, her fingers smoothing fabric flat before setting it aside. No tears. No faltering. Only the rhythm of letting go.
The divorce papers were ready, stacked in a manila envelope she had double-checked three times. Her rings , wedding and engagement , lay on the nightstand upstairs, cold gold circles that never truly belonged to her. A letter rested on top, her handwriting steady though her hand had trembled as she wrote.
It said what her voice had never managed: that she loved him, that she forgave him, and that she was setting th
