Every room I entered felt foreign, like I was walking through someone else’s life, someone else’s story.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt truly at home anywhere. Not with Aiden, not here.
I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at the woman who had once been me. The woman who wore a face that was hers, but not hers. A woman who was no longer recognized by her past, who now wore a mask of someone else’s making.
The weight of it, the weight of everything, pressed down on me. And as I reached for the toothpaste, I found my hand trembling.
I hadn’t expected it to hit me like this. The quiet, the stillness, the way Dylan kept slipping in and out of my life. Always there, but never truly there.
I thought the quiet would soothe me, would give me a sense of peace. B
