Page 192 of When the Storm Breaks
Morning spills softly through the windows, turning the dust motes gold. But the apartment feels vacant.
Every room echoes with the traces of who we used to be—
Me, cooking barefoot in the kitchen, waiting for Haiyden to come home—always pretending like I wasn’t watching the clock.
Haiyden, leaning against the doorway, watching me like he couldn’t decide whether to pull me into his arms or carry me to the bedroom and lock the door behind us.
Us, tangled up on the living room floor at midnight, whispering like the world would disappear if we spoke too loudly.
These walls held our secrets, our stumbles, the soft places we landed after falling apart.
Now, they’re bare.
It’s just a place again. But for a while, it felt like home.
I stand in the doorway, fingers brushing over a strip of chipped paint—a detail I never noticed before, but now feels like the onlyproof we were ever here. There’s something so final in the silence. Not heavy. Just… settled. Like the apartment already knows we’re gone.
The last boxes sit by the door. I stare at them for a long moment, tracing their edges, feeling the quiet grief in everything we’re leaving behind—the ordinary things that built a life. Two ZZ plants. An old mug. His sweatshirt folded on top of mine.
Beside Haiyden, Margot whines softly, her tail tapping against the floor. She knows something’s changing. She’s been pacing all morning, sniffing corners, nudging our hands—like she’s trying to figure out what we’re taking with us, and what we’re leaving behind.
The sound draws Chase from the other room. He steps into the doorway, eyes already shining. He doesn’t speak—just meets my gaze and gives a small nod, like he understands.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He pulls both of us into a tight hug, arms wrapping around me and Haiyden. His grip tightens for a second, like he doesn’t want to let go. I swipe the tears from his face, then brush at my own.
When he disappears back into his bedroom, I take one final look. One last breath in the space that held our wreckage and our rebuilding.
And then, with the soft click of the door, we leave it behind.
The tires roll over familiar roads, past places that once meant everything.
Maple & Clover, where Maggie always smiled and the dogs curled up at my feet while I waited.
The bookstore, where I lost hours between the shelves, pretending the endings I read might someday feel like mine.
Driftwood, where I learned that love can be loud, even in a place that feels like a graveyard.
We’ve outgrown it.
We agreed it was time—to let go, to begin again.
This time, we’re not leaving in pieces.
We’re choosing something whole.
I glance at Haiyden as he drives. He’s quiet, jaw tight, hands wrapped around the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road. But I see it—the tears he won’t let fall, the way he swallows hard like it might keep them down.
I know he’s thinking about Chase. About the brotherhood that saved him when he didn’t know how to save himself.
About the kind of loyalty that didn’t come with conditions.
“I know leaving was hard for you,” I say gently.
His grip on the wheel tightens, knuckles going white.
“We’re close enough to visit,” I remind him softly.
