155. Will it be?

Abigail's POV -

I step into the room, and every corner seems to whisper our past. It was once our sanctuary, a place where love blossomed, laughter echoed, and dreams intertwined. The walls themselves seem to remember the soft caresses, the shared secrets, and the stolen kisses. It was a room where our hearts danced to a symphony of emotions.

Now, the room feels cavernous, echoing with the emptiness of our shattered relationship. The bed, once a place of shared dreams and whispered promises, stands as a silent witness to our love turned sour. I can almost see us, tangled in each other's arms, our laughter ringing in the air as we reveled in each other's company. But those moments are nothing more than fading echoes, distant memories that will never be reclaimed.

My eyes fall upon the bathroom door, and I can't help but remember the times he emerged, his hair still damp from the shower, and a towel draped low around his waist. The intimacy of those moments, the vulnerability we share