ediyoursna
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- Parts 16
πΰ§π§Έπ»π¬π«π«π π©π¬π¨πΉπ§Έπΰ§
He used to call me his Teddy Bear.
Soft. Gentle. Huggable.
But even the softest things tear when pulled too hard.
I folded his shirt the way he liked. Left the perfume he used in the drawer, untouched. I still placed his slippers next to mine. Even after he started coming home with someone else's scent. Even after he began shouting instead of kissing.
"You'll never leave me," he laughed once, drunk off whiskey and ego, after throwing a bottle at the wall. "You're too scared to be alone."
Maybe I was.
But I was more scared of the mess.
I like things clean.
I like things in place.
And he... was starting to feel like trash.
β΄πππ ππππππ ππππππππππβ΄ # 4
-ediyoursna