The night passed in a haze, each hour dragging with the weight of betrayal. I lay awake in our bedroom—my bedroom—feeling the emptiness beside me grow like a dark chasm. Thoughts swirled, chaotically arranging themselves into something that resembled a plan.
Silence is powerful. It’s underestimated by those who equate noise with strength. But silence can cut deeper than the sharpest words. It can speak volumes, and by morning, I was ready to let it do the talking.
When the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, I rose from the bed, leaving the sheets cold and empty. I moved quietly through the house, feeling the gravity of my decision firm up my resolve. I brewed coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen, grounding me in the familiar ritual. Then, with steady hands, I prepared two cups, setting them on the table before taking a seat.
