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Empty Spaces

Michael’s pov

The silence of my empty home was deafening. Every corner of the house felt hollow, each room a reminder of what I'd lost. Emma's departure had left a void I couldn't fill. Shame washed over me when I thought about the moment she caught Jessica and me. My excuses were pitiful, and I knew it.

David's words haunted me. His harsh truths about my intentions with Emma left me feeling vulnerable. I couldn't refute him. Emma deserved better, and I had failed her.

That night, after Emma packed her suitcase, she spent the night in the guest room. I couldn't sleep. The bed felt too big, too cold without her. I stared at the ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over.

In the morning, I watched as Emma walked out with her suitcase. I begged her to stay, pleaded for another chance, but she remained resolute. Her calmness, her lack of anger or tears, only deepened my sense of failure. She didn't even want to fight for me, and that realization cut me deeply.

Days passed, and
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