Therapy began slowly, each session peeling back layers of denial he’d built to survive the heartbreak. He forced himself to sit with memories he had buried, confronting the quiet pains he’d mistaken for temporary distance.
He gathered Clara’s leftover belongings — the toothbrush, the T-shirts, the half-used bottle of shampoo. He realized they were simply things she hadn’t cared enough to take. They held no hidden meaning, no clue.