The silence after Zayn left felt too loud.
Lena stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, heart still racing, body still humming from his presence. The space felt different now—too big, too elegant, too foreign to be hers. The walls weren’t just walls anymore; they were a future she hadn’t chosen but was being pulled into.
Slowly, she moved to the suitcase she’d brought with her.
Her things felt ridiculously small and modest against the scale of the room.
A few dresses.
Some maternity clothes.
Toiletries.
Books and her laptop.
Personal things.
Pieces of her old life.
She unpacked mechanically, placing items in drawers that didn’t feel like they belonged to her, hanging clothes in a closet that looked more like a boutique than a wardrobe. Everything smelled like clean lin
