I stared at myself in the mirror.
The same woman.
The same face.
But not the same eyes.
They looked… hollow.
Not sad. Not broken. Just absent.
Like someone had replaced my reflection with a quieter version—one who didn't argue, didn't scream, didn't run.
Just stayed.
I had become the kind of woman I swore I'd never be.
The kind who traded boundaries for borrowed affection.
The kind who confused being chosen with being loved.
And Ethan?
He hadn't taken anything I didn't offer.
That was the worst part.
I gave it all away.
That night, I didn't text him. Didn't call.
I packed a small bag again. But this time, I didn't go to a hotel. I went to the one place I thought he wouldn't expect—my sister's house, three hours outside the city.
No skyline. No glass towers. No whispers.
Just quiet.
Just me.
I turned off my phone. Shut it in a drawer.
Didn't check my email.
Didn't wonder what Ethan would do.
Because if I did, I'd go back.
And this time, I didn't want to go back.