Comfort

Meliza's POV

The moment Ethan walked out the door, I moved with quiet resolve.

I began gathering only what I truly needed—important documents, a few personal items. I didn't bother with the rest. The clothes in the closet, the shoes neatly lined by the door, the jewelry I barely wore… they weren't mine, not really. They were all gifts from Ethan, tokens of a life that no longer belonged to me.

I packed a single suitcase—just one.

Enough to start over, but not enough to weigh me down.

I paused in the middle of the condo, letting my eyes travel across the space one last time. It was beautiful—minimal, clean, modern—but now it felt hollow. A stage set for someone else's story.

This had never been my home. Not truly. Just a place where I was kept.