'This place really is too big,' Timothy thought.
He had never once felt how vast and desolate his own home could be.
It seemed Florence had carried the last of its warmth out the door with her when she left.
He told himself there was at least one comfort in it.
From this day forward, he could be with Amelia without scrambling for excuses to put Florence off. He had always despised lying, so the freedom came as a real relief.
Timothy sat on the couch for a long while before he climbed the stairs like a ghost drifting through his own house. He reached the bedroom and dropped straight onto the bed.
Exhaustion crashed over him all at once, draining him until nothing was left but a hollow shell. He could not understand why the feeling had taken hold of him at all.
Timothy rolled onto his
