---- Chapter 7 Nikki was gone. He had searched every corner of the house but there was no sign of her. Everything she owned was still there, untouched. Something felt wrong. He yanked open the wardrobe doors. All her exquisite clothing was still neatly hung in place. But the few outfits she wore most often were missing. That was when the panic set in. A deep, unfamiliar kind of dread clawed at his chest. He knew Nikki far too well. This wasn't a spontaneous disappearance. This was deliberate. A message. One only she could ---- send and only he could understand. She wanted nothing more to do with him. She had left him. He stood motionless before the wardrobe, the weight of realization pressing down on him, until sadness slowly engulfed him. Eventually, his knees gave way and he collapsed onto the bed in silent defeat-only to hear the distinct rustle of paper beneath him. It was a divorce agreement. And a note. Her final words to him, scrawled in neat, familiar handwriting: (Levi, you once told me I was your one and only. That's why I married you. But now I'm not. And this marriage no longer means anything. Sign it.] ---- Droplets fell onto the paper-whether from his eyes or from the ceiling, he couldn't tell. The ink bled, smearing the words. Just like their love, destined to end without peace. Levi hadn't stepped outside in what felt like an eternity. He had asked around. Everyone in their circle- old friends, colleagues, even Nikki's college roommate-had been contacted. None of them knew where she had gone. For a while, he tried to keep up appearances. Pretended everything was fine. Pretended Nikki had merely gone on a business trip. She'd done that before. He avoided visiting his child, telling himself he hadn't betrayed Nikki. The self-deception almost worked. ---- Life, on the surface, appeared unchanged. Except there was no light waiting for him at home anymore. No warmth in the bed beside him at night. Everything inside the apartment remained exactly as it had when she left. Even the bouquet of fresh flowers Nikki had bought the day before she disappeared -he sprayed them with preservation mist daily, desperate to extend their life. At one point, he'd even felt grateful. Grateful that she hadn't cleared everything out. That he could still hold onto these pieces of her and summon her memory through them. But as the days blurred into weeks, he came to realize something far crueler. She hadn't taken the things. She had taken herself. The soft pink slippers by the front door never