The room is a mess. Lights off. Curtains drawn. Half-eaten food on the table, a drink sweating on the edge. The only glow comes from the TV playing a romantic drama he’s not watching. His phone is in his hand—unread messages from Nora sitting like tombstones in his inbox.
He scrolls. Finds her contact. Sees the last message:
Nora: Goodbye, Adam. Enjoy your regret.
Adam
(softly to himself)
She really blocked me…
He stands suddenly, paces the room. Rakes his hands through his hair. Goes to type a message on another app. Stops. Deletes it. Opens i********:—she’s posted. A photo of her laughing with Jason at the party. Her caption?
“Peace looks good on me.”
Adam
(chokes on his drink)
You’ve got to be kidding me.
He zooms in on Jason’s hand wrapped around her waist. The way she’s loo
