Three Weeks Back
The wind stirred the pines, whispering through the ancient trees like old spirits mourning lost love. Moonlight filtered through the forest canopy, casting silvery shadows upon the weatherworn cabin that stood nestled at the edge of the glade.
This was their place. Hidden from the world. A haven carved from stolen moments and whispered promises.
But tonight, it felt like a grave.
“Lena,” Ethan said, his voice cold as the wind, “whatever we had... it ends here.”
The words struck her harder than any blow.
She stood motionless on the creaking porch, the scent of pine and hearth smoke clinging to her cloak. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto his—eyes she had once trusted with her soul.
“What?” she breathed, voice ragged, barely rising above the fore
