Chapter 36 She Doesn't Want Love

• She stared at her reflection longer than usual that morning. Not because she liked what she saw. Not because she was trying to gather confidence or wrap herself in reassurance. She stared because something had shifted beneath the surface of her face, and she wasn’t sure yet what it was. The mirror gave nothing away. It reflected the curve of her jaw, the calm line of her mouth, the sweep of her hair tied back with careful precision. But there was a stillness in her eyes she hadn’t noticed before. A silence that didn’t used to be there.
• The mug in her hand had gone cold. She hadn’t taken more than a few sips, though she’d filled it with her usual. Black coffee. No sugar. No softness.
• Behind her, the rest of the room remained untouched. Her bed was neatly made. The robe she had worn earlier was folded at the foot. There were no signs of chaos. Nothing out of place. And yet she felt as though something had been torn apart inside her and quietly rearranged in a way she couldn’t see but could still feel every time she took a breath.