"Had to leave due to an emergency. Enjoy the food and drinks—it’s all on me."
And with that, I stepped out into the night, burdened by the crushing weight of everything I had just lost.
Dragging my weary frame back to the house I had shared with Isaac for the past seven years, I came to a stop at the threshold and took a long, quiet look at the structure that had once felt like my haven.
Back then, I was so certain this was where I would grow old, side by side with him. That belief now felt absurd—like the cruelest form of self-deception.
Every inch of the house was steeped in memories: laughter echoing in the halls, whispered conversations late at night, mundane moments that once seemed magical. Yet now, each memory felt like a wound reopening, sharp and relentless.
The truth that burned in my chest was undeniable—this place had never truly been mine. Isaac had created it for someone else, sculpted it with the image of a woman I had tried so hard to become. I had twisted myself to fit that vision, and still, it hadn’t been enough. I had always been a poor substitute.
Living here any longer would only inflict more pain.