The chipped mug warmed Amelia's hands, but the heat didn't seem to penetrate the chill that had settled in her chest. Outside, the autumn wind whipped fallen leaves into frantic dances. Inside, the silence between her and Liam was heavier, thicker than the cloying scent of pumpkin spice. He'd said the words, but they still felt like a punch to the gut. Across the country. Months. How could he just… leave? She took a long, slow sip, watching the steam curl into the air, a pale imitation of the knot tightening in her stomach.
The drive to the record store felt longer than usual. The music on the radio, usually a balm, grated on her ears. Every song seemed to mock her with its upbeat rhythm. She barely registered the faces of the other shoppers, their cheerful chatter a foreign language. Her fingers mechanically flipped through the vinyl, each record a small monument to the memories they'd shared, the concerts they'd attended, the inside jokes that now felt like relics of a life that was rapidly changing.
Back in her car, parked on the curb, the engine idling, Amelia couldn’t bring herself to go inside. The thought of facing the empty apartment, devoid of Liam's laughter and presence, was too much. She stared at the rain-streaked windshield, feeling a pressure behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to tears she was determined to suppress.