He carefully closed the door behind him, trapping himself inside. The silence of the house was so loud that it was almost suffocating.
His gaze slowly swept across the living room and, as expected, nothing had changed.
The couch, the glass table at the center of the room, the side table, and even his favorite magazines were placed in the exact same location... beside the window.
Everything remained exactly where it had always been. For years, he had barely paid attention to any of it.
But now every corner seemed to carry traces of Sonia's existence. His eyes landed on a framed photograph sitting on a nearby shelf.
His footsteps unconsciously slowed.
It was a picture taken shortly after their marriage when the old lady visited.
She had spent nearly an hour persuading him to take that picture.
He had been irritated and impatient. But she had smiled throughout the entire process, as though his coldness didn't matter.
