He once told me, “I just sleep better alone.” But the way he said it—the way he wouldn’t even look me in the eye—told me what he really meant. He didn’t want to sleep beside me. Me, specifically.
Today, as the late sun cast long shadows through the tall windows of the pack house, Ethan stood in the middle of the hall and announced that Farah would be staying for a while. Not just staying—she’d be taking the Luna quarters.
My quarters.
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t argue. I gave a small nod and murmured, “Alright.” I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for a reaction, probably even expecting a fight. But I was too tired. There was no point fighting for a place I was already being pushed out of.
When I turned away to begin packing, his footsteps echoed down the corridor—and just like that, he was gone. Again. With Farah.
In my old room, sunlight streamed through the windows, painting golden streaks on the carpet. I stood in the middle of the space I once tried so hard to make feel like mine. Now, it just felt hollow.