Leaving was not one grand exit but a series of quiet choices. She found an old letter about the cottage her aunt had left her, half-forgotten in a folder. She requested time off work without telling Damien. She packed a single suitcase over three evenings, adding and removing sweaters as if rehearsing.
On the morning she left, Damien was already gone, a note on the table about a “busy day ahead.” The apartment looked exactly as it always had, serene and curated. Lauren set her key beside the fruit bowl, the sound very small in the silence, and walked out before she could look back.