The house had never felt so still.
Isabelle sat curled on the living room sofa, a knitted throw draped over her legs, the soft glow of the table lamp casting golden light across the room. The distant hum of the city outside pulsed faintly through the windows, but inside, there was nothing but silence.
Not the comforting kind.
The kind that filled the empty spaces between the past and the future.
She traced her fingers around the rim of her teacup, watching the way the steam curled into the air before disappearing. The warmth of the tea did nothing to settle the knot in her stomach—the one that had been tightening since she said the words.
Yes, Marcus. I’ll be your girlfriend.
She had made the choice. Spoken it out loud. And yet, hours later, she still felt like she was waiting for so
