The first thing he lost was sleep.Not all at once. Not dramatically.It began with restlessness.The kind that made him turn from one side of the bed to the other, searching for a position that didn’t exist anymore. The mattress felt wider than before, colder somehow, as though it had learned the shape of absence.He kept waking up at odd hours, convinced he heard movement — the soft shuffle of slippers, the faint clink of a mug against the counter, the sound of someone existing quietly beside him.Each time, he remembered.She was gone.And she had not asked him to stop her.That realization scratched at something deep inside his chest.---The woman he chose noticed the change before he did.“You’ve been quiet lately,” she said one evening, sliding into the passenger seat of his car.“I’m fine,” he replied automatically.She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You always say that.”They drove in silence for a few minutes. The city lights blurred past the windows, familiar street
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