My heart pounds in the quiet.
He told me I could stay one night.
That was the deal.
One night.
But now everything is different, isn’t it?
Annulment isn’t an option anymore.
We’re not waiting for paperwork to erase this.
We’re waiting for paperwork to end it.
And until then…
My gaze drifts toward the stairs.
He didn’t tell me to leave.
I don’t know if that’s permission or avoidance.
I pull my phone out of my pocket before I can overthink it. My dad’s name sits there at the top of my messages, untouched.
My fingers hover over the screen.
Then I type.
Me:
Staying with a friend for a bit.
I hit send.
The message disappears into the void, and I feel both lighter and worse at the same time.
I set the phone down on the counter and glance around the kitchen.
The breakfast dishes are still drying in the rack. The ones I used this morning, trying to do something nice for him. Trying to make him hate me a little less.
I swallow.
I need something to do.
Something that isn’t sitting here waiting for him to decide my fate.
I open the fridge and stare inside. His fridge is… organized. Of course it is. Everything has a place. Containers neatly stacked. Labels facing forward. Like even his food knows how to behave.
I pull out ingredients without thinking too much. Pasta. Tomatoes. Garlic.
Cooking gives my hands something to focus on. Something predictable.
The sound of the knife against the cutting board fills the quiet. The smell of garlic softens the air. I pretend I’m just a normal girl making dinner in a normal kitchen.
I make one plate.
Not two.
