NOAH.
I stepped into the room with a certainty I hadn't even questioned, an expectation so strong it bordered on instinct. I had expected to see Maria there. Sitting quietly. Waiting. Existing in the same space as me the way she had begun to do so naturally, effortlessly, as though she belonged there.
But the room was empty.
The silence hit harder than I anticipated.
A dull ache spread across my chest, slow and heavy, forcing me to pause just inside the doorway. My gaze swept the room once, then again, as if she might suddenly appear if I looked hard enough. She didn't. And with that realization came something far more dangerous than anger.
Longing.
I exhaled sharply and shut the door behind me, dragging a hand through my hair. I wanted her around me, wanted her presence filling my space, my senses, my day. The thought of her being elsewhere, out of my sight, unsettled me more than I was willing to admit.
I wasn't sure anymore how I had lived before Maria.
