EIGHTT
he last time Audrey found herself lying on the floor of her apartment spent and all cried out like this was when Luigi told her he “Can’t do this anymore,” and “It’s been over for me a long time ago, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
It’s been three months.
When she woke up Sunday morning, she resolved to take control of her life again. No more burying herself under piles of work just so she wouldn’t fall prey to her idle thoughts. No more skipping family weekends anymore, either, especially since her niece, Bella, was turning seven come Saturday.
Which was why she spent all day clearing her apartment of everything Luigi.
Going through every single item that Luigi left in her apartment was quiet torture that left bruises in her soul. In the end, every tangible trace of her f
