Days passed.
Then weeks.
No calls.
No messages.
Nothing.
The house… felt like a prison.
Because every corner reminded him of her.
The food she used to make.
The chair she sat on.
The silence she left behind.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
No calls.
No messages.
Nothing.
The house… felt like a prison.
Because every corner reminded him of her.
The food she used to make.
The chair she sat on.
The silence she left behind.