The words fell between them like glass breaking. She looked at him, really looked — at the man she’d once loved more than anything. The man who used to dance with her in the kitchen. Now he couldn’t even look her in the eye. He stood to leave, guilt flickering across his face. “I just need time. That’s all.” When the door closed behind him, the silence roared.
She didn’t cry that night. There were no tears left. Instead, she lay awake staring at the faint reflection in the dark window — her face pale, her eyes hollow, her body weak. The world had gone still, but inside her, something had begun to shift. By morning, her fever had returned. The nurses urged her to rest, but she couldn’t.