Jane stood by her window for the fourth time that night.
Freddy’s car had been parked outside for almost an hour. The lights in his apartment were on, but he hadn’t stepped out once. She could see his silhouette moving behind the curtains, phone in hand, that small private smile on his face.
A smile that used to be hers.
Something had changed, and she could feel it in her bones. He no longer texted first. He no longer called her over at midnight with that low voice that used to make her body react before she even left her apartment. The last time she had been inside his place, he had taken her, but it felt empty — like he was just releasing stress and nothing more.
Jane picked up her phone, heart heavy.
**Jane:**
*You’re home.*
The reply took almost fifteen minutes.
**Freddy:**
