The house felt unusually quiet.
He loosened his tie as he stepped inside, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor.
For a moment, he paused.
Something was different.
The lights were off.
Normally, even if he came home late, the living room light would be on.
She always left it on for him.
He frowned slightly and turned it on.
The room looked the same.
And yet… not the same.
He walked toward the bedroom.
The door was open.
Her wardrobe was half empty.
He stopped walking.
For a few seconds, he just stood there, staring.
Her clothes were gone.
Not all of them—but most.
The hangers swung lightly, as if mocking him.
He told himself it was normal.
Of course she would take her things.
They were divorced.
This house was no longer hers.
That thought should have made him feel relieved.
But for some reason, his chest felt tight.
He turned away and went to the bathroom.
Her toothbrush was missing.
So was her towel.
Even the small bottle of shampoo she always used—
Gone.
He stared at the empty shelf longer than necessary.
"She's really gone," he muttered.
The words sounded strange.
Final.
He walked back to the living room and sat down on the sofa.
His phone lay beside him.
He picked it up, unlocked the screen, then froze.
His finger hovered over her contact name.
He frowned.
Why was he even thinking of calling her?
He scoffed and locked the phone again.
"She'll come back," he said coldly. "She always does."
She had left before.
Once, after a big argument.
She stayed at her mother's place for two days.
On the third day, she came back on her own.
Apologizing.
Smiling.
This time wouldn't be any different.
That's what he told himself.
At her mother's house, she was sitting by the window.
Sunlight streamed in softly.
She held a cup of tea in her hands, feeling its warmth.
Her mother was in the kitchen, humming quietly.
For the first time in a long while, she felt… calm.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
She glanced at it.
Unknown number.
She hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?"
There was silence on the other end.
Then a familiar voice.
"Why didn't you take everything?"
Her heart skipped.
She hadn't expected him to call.
"Some things don't matter anymore," she replied calmly.
He frowned.
Her tone was different.
Not soft.
Not careful.
Just calm.
"You forgot some documents," he said. "Come get them."
"No," she replied.
He was stunned.
"No?" he repeated. "What do you mean, no?"
"You can throw them away," she said. "Or keep them. It doesn't matter."
He tightened his grip on the phone.
"You're being unreasonable," he said impatiently.
She smiled faintly.
Unreasonable.
She had heard that word too many times.
"I won't go back there," she said simply. "There's no need."
He felt a strange irritation rise inside him.
"You're acting childish," he said. "Don't forget who paid for—"
She cut him off.
"I don't owe you anything anymore."
The line went dead.
He stared at the phone.
She… hung up on him?
His chest tightened.
She had never done that before.
Never.
At the office the next day, he was unusually distracted.
During a meeting, his assistant called his name twice.
"Sir?"
He snapped back to reality. "What?"
"The contract," the assistant said carefully. "You haven't signed it yet."
He glanced at the document, then signed it absentmindedly.
After the meeting, Ms. Lin walked into his office.
"You seem tired," she said gently. "Didn't sleep well?"
"I'm fine," he replied curtly.
She smiled and placed a coffee on his desk.
"I heard you finalized the divorce," she said casually. "Congratulations."
Congratulations.
The word felt strange.
He nodded.
"That's good," she continued. "Now nothing is holding you back."
Nothing is holding you back.
He didn't respond.
Ms. Lin studied his face.
"You're not regretting it, are you?" she asked jokingly.
He looked up sharply.
"Of course not," he said immediately.
The answer came too fast.
Too firm.
Ms. Lin laughed. "I was just kidding."
But her eyes darkened slightly.
That evening, he returned home late again.
Out of habit, he glanced at the dining table.
It was empty.
No food.
No note.
He remembered how she used to leave small notes.
Dinner is in the fridge.
Don't forget to eat.
He scoffed.
"She was annoying," he muttered.
But for some reason, he opened the fridge.
It was empty.
Completely empty.
He closed the door harder than necessary.
Meanwhile, she stood in front of her laptop.
Her resume was open.
She stared at the screen for a long time.
She hadn't worked since marriage.
At his request.
"You don't need to work. Just stay home."
She believed him.
Now, she smiled bitterly.
"I'll start again," she said to herself.
She edited her resume carefully.
Her eyes were focused.
Determined.
She was no longer waiting.
Late at night, he lay in bed, unable to sleep.
The bed felt larger.
Colder.
He turned to the side—
And reached out instinctively.
His hand touched nothing.
He froze.
He stared at the empty space beside him.
For the first time, a strange thought crossed his mind.
What if… she doesn't come back?
He pushed the thought away immediately.
Impossible.
She loved him too much.
But somewhere deep inside—
A thin crack appeared in his certainty.
He didn't realize it yet—
But the silence in the house
was slowly becoming unbearable.
And regret…
had already begun knocking on his door.