The Space Between
The condo felt suffocating. Not because of the space, but because of him. Every room carried the weight of his absence, of the conversations that hadn’t happened, of the glances he had withheld. Maya moved silently, dragging her suitcase out of the closet, feeling the zipper catch slightly as if even it sensed her hesitation. She didn’t look at him, didn’t pause to ask for reassurance, didn’t wait for a last-minute argument. She simply began to pack. Clothes folded neatly, books stacked carefully, a few personal items tucked into the corners of the suitcase so they wouldn’t shift. Her hands worked methodically, almost robotically, each motion a way to quiet the storm in her chest. A storm fueled by months of tension, subtle hurts, unspoken disappointments, and Calvin’s increasingly sharp
- Writer
