The apartment was still full of him. Diane had tried to erase his presence, to scrub away the traces of a life they had built together. But no matter how hard she tried, there were pieces of him everywhere hidden in the corners, lurking in the quiet.
The drawer by her bed was the worst. It was still half-open, the contents mocking Diane every time she passed by. His hoodie lay on top, soft and worn, a testament to the nights he had stayed over and made Diane world feel whole. Beneath it, a bracelet she had given him for his birthday, forgotten in his rush to leave.
And then there was the note.
She pulled it out carefully, her fingers trembling as they brushed over the edges. The paper was creased, the words faded, but she didn't need to read them to remember.
"You're my forever."
The letters were scrawled in his messy handwriting, smudged where his hand had dragged across the ink. Once, those words had felt like a promise. Now, they felt like a lie.