Nathan's POV
The thing about regret is that it doesn't come screaming. It creeps. Quiet, like a cold draft under a locked door. You ignore it at first, until it's in your bones.
I didn’t think of Elena much the week after she left. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t let myself feel it. When she caught me with Rachel, God, her silence hit harder than if she’d screamed. She didn’t cry. Didn’t plead. She just stood there like I wasn’t worth the noise.
She left her key on the hallway table. That was it.
At first, I told myself I was better off. Rachel was easier. Elena had needs, questions, layers. She’d write into the early hours, always chasing metaphors. She’d sit in darkness for hours, not because of her eyes but because she said she thought clearer in the quiet. With Rachel, everything
