Page 185 of Glitched Play

“Maci. Maci.”

I hear his voice echoing against the walls. There’s virtually no softness in the living area. It’s all stone and wood except for the couch, but somehow this place still feels like home.

"Witt?" I whisper to myself before realizing he isn't calling for himself.

"Maci!" His voice gets louder.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Not yet. I can’t handle seeing him right now. I’m sure he’ll revert back to not being able to look me in the eye and that’ll hurt almost as much as leaving.

His footsteps pound down the hallway.

Fast.

Not stomping, more like he’s worried.

He appears in the bedroom doorway just as I lift another overloaded tote.

He stops so abruptly I think he forgets how to breathe.

Boxes.

Laundry baskets.

Open suitcases.

Half-empty drawers.

His eyes sweep the room once then land on me. I can see his brain calculating.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his face doesn’t wear anger or guilt. His brows pinch together and his eyes look like they’re trying to understand.

I tighten my grip on the tote. "I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm moving out."

His lashes open and close in quick succession before he says, "Maci..."

He steps toward me.

I instinctively step back.

His face pales. "Why are you moving?”

The tears I've been fighting all afternoon finally win.

"You told me you loved me."

"I do." He answers so quickly there's no hesitation. "I do."

"Then why am I moving?"

His forehead creases. "What are you talking about?"

"Dara."

His expression changes. Not defensive or guilty, slightly confused.