The silence was different now.
Before, Gavin's silences were cold. Deliberate. Meant to control or punish.
Now they were hollow.
Not punishment.
Just absence.
---
He found Iris's last lipstick in the bathroom drawer.
He threw it away.
Then scrubbed the sink as if it could erase the part of him that ever believed she was light.
---
When she first entered his life, Iris had felt like defiance. Like rebellion dressed in perfume and secrets. He mistook it for depth. For truth.
But now—when he looked back—it wasn't mystery she'd offered.
It was manipulation cloaked in need.
And he had called it love.
---
He tried to work. Couldn't.
He tried to sleep. Couldn't.
He sat on the floor and reread Flora's last message—the one she never actually sent but had scrawled on the back of a m
