The Night I Finally Chose Myself

I didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. Didn’t storm out into the night.

I stood there, staring, like the breath had been quietly knocked from my chest.

And then — I did something that surprised even me.

I picked them up.

I washed them.

And I wore them.

The Calm Before the Storm

He came home not long after. Keys jingling, door opening with a familiar creak. I was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, calm and composed in someone else’s lingerie.

“Look, baby,” I said, standing to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

He froze.

Just for a moment. The mask slipped.

Then: “Yeah… they look great on you.”

He disappeared into the bathroom for twenty minutes. No explanation. No apology.

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