TESSA.
The house felt different after Melissa left.
Different in a way that crept beneath the skin.
Quieter.
But not peaceful.
The quiet that settled over the walls wasn't the comforting kind that follows resolution. It wasn't the soft hush of a storm that had finally passed. It was thick. Pressing. Lingering.
The silence she left behind wasn't calm, it was heavy. It clung to the corners of the living room, hung low in the hallway, settled into the furniture like something unresolved and refused to leave. It felt as though her anger still vibrated faintly in the air, as though the echo of the door slamming still trembled somewhere deep in the structure of the house.
I stood there for a long moment, unmoving.
My eyes remained fixed on the door she had slammed shut, as if staring at it long enough might undo the last ten minutes. As if it might open again and everything would reset.
But it didn't.
My chest rose slowly.
Then fell.
Slowly.
