The moonlight streaked in through the half-open window, its silvery gleam crawling across the walls like a ghost's touch.
The air still smelled of rain — damp, metallic, faintly sweet — the scent of a world rinsed but not renewed. Somewhere outside, water dripped rhythmically from the gutter, counting down the seconds of a night that refused to end.
The air conditioner was off. The silence of it made the room too intimate. The only sound was the baby's steady breathing — soft, wet sighs against the hush.
On the wide bed, the infant lay swaddled in pale linen, her tiny hands half-unfisted, her lashes trembling against plump cheeks. Maya sat beside her, one hand resting gently on the baby's chest, patting her in slow, instinctive motions. Her touch was absent, mechanical — a habit that outlasted purpose. After a while, even that rhythm stilled.
She blinked, tired hazel eyes searching her daughter's face, as though the baby might open her eyes and explain how the world had become so cruel in just one night. But the child slept on, unbothered, her mouth twitching in some innocent dream.
Maya sighed, shifting the loose wrapper tied around her chest. The fabric had the scent of milk and talcum.
Her movements were heavy — the kind of slow, dragging motion that comes from the body's refusal to move on. She stood up, bones creaking, and walked across the quiet room to the vanity table.
The mirror caught her reflection in full.
She stared.
The woman looking back at her could have been anyone — hollow-eyed, with hair frizzy and tangled in wild, damp curls. Her skin looked pale beneath the yellow bulb's dull glow. There was no makeup, no filter, no effort left. The bare truth of her face made her throat tighten.
She leaned closer. The sharp point of her surgically perfected nose looked wrong now — an accusation rather than beauty. Her plump lips, once her pride, looked swollen, cracked from too many nights without sleep. Her expression was frozen, the muscles too stiff to frown or smile naturally anymore.
It wasn't just exhaustion. It was disillusion.
She had built this face — this illusion — for a man who told her perfection was love.
A man who now lay with her best friend.
Her stomach turned.
Chase's voice still echoed faintly in her memory — that lazy laugh, that boyish charm that had once made her believe every apology. "You're my only one, May. You know that."
Lies. So many lies she had memorized them like vows.
But even after trying so hard....
Her lips twitched as she remembered the sight she saw.
Funnily enough it didn't affect her that Chase cheated as much as it did about who he cheated on her with.
She opened up her phone and went to the last chat sent by Claire earlier today.
you're the strongest lady I know Maya. I swear.
I'm so proud of you boo.
I promise to come check up on you when I'm in town.
Stay strong alright. Just know I'm here for you.
Maya read the texts over and over again until her eyes watered.
When she came in and saw the Porsche she had wished it wasn't her. She wished it was a coincidence that someone had the same car model, colour and plate number.
Even when she saw the red bag she wished it was someone who coincidentally loved the colour red.
Until she got to the door of his room.
She didn't want to see it.
Ignorance was bliss.
But she did. Her best friend like sister on her boyfriends bed with his shirt around her.
She dropped her phone and tugged on her hair. Scratching it.
"God help me" she whispered.
She didn't know exactly how long she spent staring at nothing in particular before she stood up and went to the door.
The lights downstairs were dim.
Maya held the rail of staircase as she descended.
Her body still aching and fatigued from the aftermaths of delivery.
Her suitcase and carry-on was still there in the living room. She however didn't go straight to it but went towards the kitchen.
She picked up a glass and poured in water. After looking through the refrigerator she was able to find something to eat. She placed it inside to microwave to reheat it.
As she drank water while waiting at the counter and watching the food spin she heard footsteps behind her.