Lena’s Pov
I sat on the couch in the apartment that used to feel like home and watched Ethan tape the last box of my things. Three weeks had passed since the night he told me to leave, and we had only spoken through short texts about picking up my stuff. He looked thinner, and his eyes stayed tired, but he smiled slightly when I walked in.
“Almost done,” he said and pushed the box toward me. “Books and paints mostly.”
I nodded and picked up a smaller box because my arms felt weak. “Thank you for letting me come today,” I said quietly. “I know it is hard.”
He shrugged and leaned against the wall. “Harder pretending we could fix it,” he said plainly. “I loved you, Lena, but I see now you were already gone.”
Tears came fast, and I wiped them quickly. “I am sorry I hurt you,” I said, and
