But everything was clean.
Ordered.
Dignified.
“Sit,” Emily said, pointing to a plastic chair.
Daniel sat stiffly, looking around in disbelief.
“How did you end up like this?” he asked softly.
Emily looked straight into his eyes.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked.
“Or do you just want to feel less guilty?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but she continued.
“After you threw me out, I tried starting over. I sold my jewelry. Rented a tiny apartment. Looked for work.”
She paused.
“You know what I found?”
“Closed doors.”
Daniel frowned.
“I never—”
“Yes, you did,” she interrupted calmly.
“You told people I was unstable. That I wanted to steal company secrets. That I was dangerous.”
Daniel’s chest tightened.
“You didn’t just remove me from your house,” she said. “You erased my name everywhere.”
The room grew heavy with silence.
“When the money ran out, I was evicted,” she continued quietly. “I spent months in a women’s shelter.”
Daniel’s hands clenched.
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t want to know.”
