Katherine’s POVI woke up before sunrise, just like I always did. The house was still and quiet, the kind of silence that made you feel small inside it. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Lester, and wrapped a robe around me before heading downstairs.Every morning for the past three years, I made him breakfast eggs, toast, and coffee exactly the way he liked it. It had become more than a habit; it was my way of holding on. Holding on to us.The kitchen lights flickered on, and I started the routine I knew by heart. The smell of butter hit the pan, the coffee machine hummed softly. I moved quietly, like a ghost in my own home.By the time he came down, the table was perfectly set. I smiled at him, waiting for the small, simple things: a glance, a thank you, maybe a kiss on the cheek.But he didn’t even look at the plate.“Cancel dinner tonight,” he said, adjusting his tie in the mirror by the doorway. “I have work.”That was all. No good morning. No smile. Just those four word
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