The truck door closed behind her with a dull final sound and she knew from the weight of it that he would not come around to her side. Her hand stayed on the cold metal longer than it needed to. The engine idled and then settled. The air smelled of wet dirt and pine. Dawn light lay thin across the road. She waited for footsteps that never came and felt the loss arrive before she understood what she was giving up. She stepped back and the truck pulled away without hurry. Gravel shifted and then was still. The space where he should have stood felt larger than the road could…

The gate clicked shut behind her and she knew by the sound alone that he would not come through it after her. Her hand stayed on the latch as if touch could reverse the motion. The yard lay open and quiet. Late afternoon light caught on the dust in the air. Somewhere inside the house a floorboard creaked and then went still. She took a breath that felt too shallow and stepped away. The gate did not open again. The leaving had already happened and this was only the proof. She walked down the road without looking back. Gravel shifted beneath her shoes. Each step carried the weight of something…

The screen door swung shut behind her and the sound cracked something open that could not be closed again. Her hand hovered in the empty space where his sleeve had been a moment before. The air smelled of dust and warm wood. Inside the house a clock ticked too loudly. Outside the yard lay open and bright as if nothing had happened. She stood on the porch and felt the leaving arrive before her feet moved. Whatever words might have followed her out stayed behind with him and learned how to be quiet. She walked down the steps without turning. Gravel shifted under her shoes. At the gate she paused…

She heard the oars rest against the dock behind her and knew without turning that he had stopped rowing and would not follow her onto the shore. The water lapped softly against the wood. Her shoes sank slightly into the damp sand as she stepped away. She waited for the sound of his voice or the scrape of movement but the lake remained quiet as if it had chosen a side. The evening light thinned and stretched across the surface of the water. She closed her fingers into her palm and felt the absence settle before she understood what it would cost. By the time she reached the path the…

The bell over the shop door rang once behind her and she knew before the sound faded that he would not call her back. She stood on the sidewalk with the receipt folded small in her hand and felt the moment seal itself. Inside the glass she saw his reflection turn away. Outside the morning air smelled of bread and dust. A delivery truck passed and the bell inside rang again without her touching it. Something precious had already slipped past the point of return and she carried the knowing of it like weight in her chest. She walked to her car slowly. Each step felt careful as if the…

The door closed behind her with a quiet final sound and she realized too late that he had not followed her out into the hall. Her hand rested on the knob longer than it should have. The metal was cool and steady and unmoved by the weight of what she was leaving behind. From inside the room came the muffled sound of his breath and then nothing at all. The hallway smelled faintly of pine cleaner and old wood. She took one step and then another and felt the loss arrive fully formed before she understood its shape. By the time she reached the porch the light had shifted into…

The mailbox door fell shut with a hollow sound and she understood in that moment that no letter would ever arrive here for her again. Her hand lingered on the cool metal longer than necessary. The house behind her was already empty in the way places become empty before the last thing is gone. Wind moved through the yard and stirred dust along the road. She tasted salt and did not wipe it away. Saying goodbye had happened earlier without her noticing and this was only the proof. She turned and saw him standing by the fence where the boards leaned inward like tired shoulders. He had not meant to…

He closed the porch light with a soft click and she knew in that instant that the house would not wait for her anymore. The darkness came gently and without argument. Her suitcase rested at her feet. His hand hovered near the doorframe as if it remembered a habit it no longer owned. She stood on the last step and felt the weight of what had already been decided press into her chest before she could give it a name. The night smelled of cut grass and distant rain. A name waited at the back of her throat and never arrived. She turned before he could say anything. The gravel…

The key snapped inside the lock and she knew before the sound finished that she would not be able to fix it back into what it had been. The metal broke clean and final and her hand stayed on the door longer than it needed to as if touch alone could undo the moment. Inside the house the air was still and carried the faint smell of dust and old soap. Outside the evening pressed close with the weight of things ending. She closed her eyes and felt the loss arrive fully formed before she had words for it. By the time she stepped back onto the porch the light…

She felt his fingers loosen around hers at the edge of the bus step and knew before she looked that he would not climb up after her. The door sighed shut with a tired breath and the sound seemed too gentle for what it took away. His hand dropped to his side as if it had always belonged there and the distance between them appeared all at once complete and final. She pressed her palm against the cold glass but did not raise it high enough to wave. The bus lurched forward. Gravel clicked beneath the tires. His name stayed locked behind her teeth where it burned without sound. By…