The room felt emptier after he left.
Not quiet—she’d lived with quiet before. But hollow. Like something had shifted, some invisible cord pulled taut, then cut clean through.
Maya lay still for a long time, barely breathing, staring at the closed door as if it might open again. As if he might return.
But he didn’t.
And the longer she waited, the more impossible it became to believe he’d been there at all.
She pressed her fingers against her lips, not knowing why. They tingled. Like they’d tasted something dangerous. Like they’d spoken something they shouldn’t have.
Damien.
She’d said his name. She’d breathed it like it belonged to her.
And he let her.
No. Not let—wanted her to.
That name wasn’t supposed to belong in her mouth. Not outside work. Not whispered like a secret.
But s
