Chapter 48. The Separation

That first night, he did not come home. Not to the familiar warmth of their apartment, and certainly not to her. Alyssa lay in bed, eyes fixed on the pale glow of her phone, though she had no intention of sending messages or making calls. The room smelled faintly of laundry soap and cold cotton, and the duvet felt heavy against her limbs, as if it, too, were reluctant to let her move. Her phone rested beside her like a fresh wound, its screen dark and unreadable. She stayed awake until 2 a.m., listening to the slow tick of the clock on the nightstand and the distant hum of traffic beyond the windows.

By 3 a.m., she slid out of bed and crept into the living room, where the couch’s cushions cradled her as she lay down fully clothed. She pressed her back into the soft fabric, staring at the ceiling where the streetlights cast amber rectangles through the blinds. Those squares of light drifted across the plaster, shifting ever so slightly with the breeze outside.

She whispe