Mia
I wasn’t going to do it.
That’s the lie I told myself, anyway. But even as I tried to calm my breathing, the urge came over me—stronger than anything before. Stronger than reason. Stronger than fear.
That’s why I’m sitting outside the house I used to own.
The house that once held love and laughter and late-night arguments that ended in apologies.
Those memories are still here—but they’re buried now, hidden behind walls that no longer belong to me.
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as I stare at the porch.
Nothing has changed.
The same white panels.
The same flickering porch light Damon promised to fix months ago.
I expect an ache somewhere deep in my chest, but it never comes. Not even when I reach for the envelope—the one that’s been burnin
