Love didn’t end loudly.
It didn’t always explode.
Sometimes, it faded in silence—
in unanswered messages,
in tired eyes,
in the weight of being strong for too long.
Ava Montgomery learned that on a Tuesday morning when Jaxon didn’t come home.
⸻
She noticed the quiet first.
Not the peaceful kind.
The wrong kind.
The kind that pressed against her chest and refused to loosen.
Jaxon’s side of the bed was untouched.
His phone charger still plugged in.
His jacket gone.
Ava stood in the doorway for a long moment, heart beating too fast.
He would have texted.
He always did.
Her phone buzzed.
For one wild second, relief flooded her.
Then she saw the name.
Unknown Number
He needs space. Don’t look for him.
Ava’s hands went cold.
⸻
Jaxon had walked all night.
No destination.
