Elin's POV

The apartment feels smaller than I remember.

Aaron stands in the kitchen, putting away the containers of food he made for Yanis. His movements are efficient, familiar. Like he never left.

Like I never told him to go.

I sit on the edge of the couch, my hands twisted in my lap. The silence between us isn't uncomfortable anymore. Not like it was in the car. Not like it's been for months.

But it's heavy.

Weighted with everything we've lost. Everything we've broken.

"You should ...