The elevator finally arrived and Darrel piled in all their bags and boxes. Despite the space, I didn’t want to share that cramped elevator with them.
As the doors slid shut, my reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator caught my eye. It was strange—there was an echo of another memory, another time. When I had first moved out of our family home, Darrel had been there, meticulously helping me pack and move each little box. He hadn’t let me lift a finger, taking care of everything for me, down to the smallest detail.
Stephanie’s sigh snapped me out of my thoughts. She looked at me with concern. “Maybe... they’re not what you think, Fionna. Maybe it’s all just work-related and there’s nothing personal going on. Do you want me to ask him? It might put your mind at ease if there’s nothing to worry about.”
I held my ground, my voice cold and unyielding. “I don’t want to waste another second on this ridiculous relationship. It’s over.”