Diane stared at the closed door long after he had left, her hands trembling at her sides. The room felt colder now, emptier, as though his departure had stolen the last bit of warmth it had held. She walked back to the couch and sank into it, wrapping her arms around herself.
Diane heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, the love she had buried under layers of hurt and anger. She thought back to the nights they had spent together, the laughter that had filled this very room, the quiet moments when he would hold her close and whisper that he loved her.
How could she pretend none of it mattered? That he hadn't been her world?
"I loved you so much," she whispered to the empty room, her voice breaking. "Too much."
The thought of being friends with him now, of seeing him with someone else, felt like a cruel joke. Diane couldn't pretend. She Never Loved him