Chapter 1 - The Anatomy of a Ghost
The bedroom did not look like a battlefield; it looked like a showroom of my own choices.
The linen duvet cover was the sage-green one Sophia had helped me pick out at a boutique in SoHo three months ago. The bedside lamps cast the exact warm, amber glow I had insisted on to make the space feel like a sanctuary. And there, tangled in those very sheets, were my fiancé and my maid of honor.
Adrien’s eyes went wide, his face instantly losing its color under his tan. Sophia gasped, scrambling backward, clutching my sage-green duvet to her chest. A strand of her dark hair was tangled in the delicate chain of a necklace I had gifted her for her birthday.
For three seconds, nobody breathed.
"Luna," Adrien stammered, his voice cracking. He sat up, his bare chest looking suddenly fragile, stripped of the polished arrogance he usually carried. "You’re... you're supposed to be in London. Your flight wasn't due until—"
"Two weeks," I said. My voice sounded flat, hollow, as if it were coming from a speaker in another room. "The wedding is in two weeks."
Sophia's eyes welled with tears, a theatrical, instant display of remorse that she had perfected since we were teenagers. "Luna, oh my god, please. It’s not what it looks like. We were just... we had too much wine, and we were talking about the wedding stress, and—"
"Do you think I am stupid, Sophia?"
The question wasn't shouted. It was whispered, but it cut through the room like a scalpel. Sophia flinched, pulling the duvet higher.
"Luna, let’s just talk about this," Adrien said, stepping out of bed, grabbing his discarded boxers from the floor. He took a step toward me, his hands raised. "It was a mistake. A massive, stupid mistake. But we can fix this. Think about the wedding. Think about your parents. The invitations are already sent. The deposits—"
"The deposits are gone, Adrien," I said.
I looked at him—the man I had loved for six years, the man whose quirks I had memorized, whose career I had quietly supported while putting my own design aspirations on hold. He looked small. He looked cheap.
I looked at Sophia. The "emotional support maid of honor." The woman who had held my hand while I tried on my grandmother's veil, all while secretly planning to tear down the life I was building.
"Both of you have thirty minutes to get your things out of my apartment," I said, my voice rising just enough to command the space. "Because if you are still here when I return with the building manager, I will have the police remove you for trespassing. This lease is in my name."
"Luna, please!" Sophia sobbed, reaching out her hand, but I was already turning away.
May you like
I walked back down the hallway, my heels clicking on the hardwood. I grabbed my suitcase by the handle, opened the front door, and walked out. I didn't look at the wedding catalogs on the coffee table. I didn't look at the mock seating chart.
I walked out of the building, down the busy Manhattan street, and into the cool autumn air. The noise of the city rushed to meet me, loud, chaotic, and completely indifferent to the fact that my entire world had just collapsed in the span of four minutes.
