Four months before she would no longer live here.
Before this house would stop feeling like home.
Before Leonardo would no longer be her husband.
And so, she pulled away.
She stopped herself from expecting anything.
She stopped herself from enjoying the way his voice sounded when he said her name.
She stopped letting herself look too long when he walked past in those crisp black shirts that made her stomach flutter in ways she hated to admit.
But the part that hurt most?
He didn't stop her.
He didn't ask why she was avoiding him or why she left the room just before he entered. He didn't reach out. Didn't speak. Didn't try.
And that silence cut deeper than anything else.
Was I really that easy to let go of…?
He was confusing.
He made her feel things she didn't know how to name.
