skyline, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the cool glass. It was evening, and the golden light from the streetlamps below blurred with
hide anymore. She didn't turn around. If she looked at him now, it would make everything real. It would make her acknowledge th
g itself into the open, no matter
een them. She could tell by the way he said her name that this was
s soft, barely above a whisper, and she hate
ence next to her, the warmth of him contrasting the coldness in his tone. "This... isn't working anymore,"
but she wouldn't let them fall. Not now. Not yet. "What do yo
were hard, detached-so different from the man she had fallen in love with. "You know what
apped at those words. She turned to face him fully, her eyes nar
quickly tried to mask, but it was too late. Hazel's h
le. She had seen the signs-late-night text messages, the whispered phone calls when he thought she
swer. "It's not what you think," he started, but Hazel cut h
r hands clenching into fists at her sides. "
is hair, avoiding her g
are. The pain and humiliation twisted inside her like a
if it were something he could brush of
been too blind to see it. Too trusting. She could barely breathe as the weight of his betrayal pre
r now, trembling. The question felt ridiculous, as if she al
ould say no. Maybe he would apologize, try to salvage what was left. But
tion, as if he were making a business t
him any longer. The man standing in front of her wasn't the man she ha
felt sick, dizzy with anger and sadness. The life she had imagined, t
ed away. "Don't," she said, he
couch and his keys from the table, his footsteps
lt hollow, meaningless. He had already chosen
m, and the silence that followed was suffocating. Hazel stood there for a mo
lowly, she sank down onto the couch, wrapping her arms around hers
ad through her entire body. Everything she had believed in, everything she had trusted, had shattered in front of
had no answers, no sense of what would come next, on