Page 2 of Worship Him

My eyes scan the room, taking in the carefully curated decor that now feels like a stranger's attempt at comfort.

The silence is deafening.

No TV murmuring in the background, no clacking of Adam's keyboard as he works late into the night.

Just... emptiness.

I drop my purse on the pristine kitchen counter, my gaze landing on the framed photo I couldn't bring myself to packaway. Adam and I on our wedding day, his arms around me, both of us beaming at the camera.

He looked so handsome, and I was practically glowing with joy.

We were so happy, so in love. Why did it all go so wrong?

A sob catches in my throat, and I sink to the floor, my back against the cold kitchen cabinets.

The tears I've been holding back all day finally break free, cascading down my cheeks.

Here. Now. I will let it all out behind closed doors. I know it’s how I’ll heal, but there’s no way I’ll let anyone see me in such a sorrowful state.

I take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, as if searching for help or perhaps, answers to questions I haven’t thought of yet.

The truth lies heavily on my shoulders, seeping into my soul.

This apartment, with its perfect feng shui and Instagram-worthy aesthetic, will never be home.

Home was the sound of Adam's laughter echoing through our house.

Home was the way he'd surprise me with breakfast in bed on Sunday mornings.

Home was the warmth of his strong arms around me after a long day.

But I couldn't stay there. Not with the memories of our fights, the growing silences, the realization that we were drifting apart despite our best efforts.

Our house had become a battleground, every room a reminder of what we were losing, the precious fragility of a once-wonderful relationship we couldn’t keep together.

The two of us were a power couple, the envy of our friend group. Even our competition couldn’t deny how awesome the two of us were together.

But that all went up in smoke, and I was unable to capture it, flailing to close my hands over something that I wanted with all my heart.

I pull my knees to my chest, hugging them tight as I let the grief wash over me. This is my reality now—an empty apartment and a heart full of broken dreams.

I drag myself off the kitchen floor, my legs stiff from sitting too long. The photo on the counter catches my eye again, and I can't help but pick it up.

My thumb traces Adam's face, remembering the electricity I felt when we first met.

"God, we were so in love," I whisper to the empty room and the memories in the chambers of my heart.

Our first encounter floods back into my mind, a small smile tugging at my lips. Me, a wide-eyed intern, fumbling with a stack of papers.

Him, the hot and confident CEO, catching them mid-air as they slipped from my grasp.

"Looks like you could use a hand," he'd said, his smile making my heart skip.

It was as if time stood still and the only two people in existence was me and him.

From that moment, we were inseparable.

Late nights at the office turned into secret dinner dates. Stolen glances across conference rooms became wild, passionate kisses in his car.

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