9
Zara
There’s a kind of pain that doesn’t scream. It doesn’t demand attention. It sits there, heavy, like a weight on your chest. It suffocates without saying a word.
“We’re moving to Geneva,” Victor said, his voice calm, almost detached as he folded his napkin with an unsettling precision. Like he wasn’t just delivering life-altering news.
I didn’t flinch. But my heart clenched tight. He didn’t look at me, but I saw the way his jaw tightened. The way his shoulders tensed. He was as unsettled as I was.
I forced a smile, the practiced one, the one that’s perfect for dinner parties and business meetings. “Oh. How soon?”
“Two weeks.”
Two weeks. Just like that. No discussion. No negotiation. Just another uprooting of my life, like I was a plant that no one bothered to care for.
I caug
