When I pushed open the front door, I almost thought I'd walked into the wrong house. This place, where I'd poured five years of my life into a bond with Derek, felt like a stranger's den. Last time I left, I'd already packed up most of my stuff, but now? Alyssa had clearly been busy, clearing out what little I'd left behind.
I wandered to the master bathroom. On Derek's sink sat a pair of red-and-blue couple's toothbrushes, side by side. I glanced around—everywhere I looked, there they were: matching mugs, slippers, throw pillows. Like this was some love-drunk pair's cozy little nest.
I remembered when we first bound ourselves. I'd been so excited, buying us a set of couple's mugs. Derek barely glanced at them, muttering, "What's the point of this pup stuff?" I never brought it up again.
