Chapter Eight
He didn’t come home.
At first, I told myself it didn’t matter.
Why would it?
I was the one who told him to leave me alone.
I was the one who said I didn’t want this.
So this—him not being here, not showing up, not watching me from across the room—this was exactly what I asked for.
Right?
Then why couldn’t I focus on anything else?
I sat on my bed, my phone in my hand, staring at the blank screen like it was supposed to give me answers.
It didn’t.
The house was too quiet.
Not the usual quiet.
Not the kind that just sits in the background.
This one felt loud.
Heavy.
Like something was missing.
I shook my head, tossing my phone onto the bed.
“This is stupid,” I muttered under my breath.
I stood up, pacing slowly across the room.
He’s just not here.
That’s it
