Samira leaves

Samira woke up early Sunday morning, the first rays of dawn barely creeping through the blinds. The quiet of the apartment felt stifling, like the walls were closing in around her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept peacefully, without the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. She knew she couldn’t stay, not today. She needed air, space—anything but the four walls that held the echoes of last night’s conversation with Ray.

Samira dressed quickly, grabbing her coat, purse, and slipping on her shoes with quiet efficiency. She avoided looking at Ray’s door, not wanting to risk waking him. She glanced at her phone but decided against leaving a note. What could she even say? She wasn’t running away; she just needed time to think, to breathe without the constant pressure of everything that had gone extremely hot and sweet but at the same time wrong between them.

She stepped out into the crisp morning air, pulling her coat tighter around her as she