The Mafia's Substitute Bride
I did the same with anything else that reminded me or him of what we once had.
Once the wardrobe was empty, I turned to the other parts of the room, pulling books, shoes, and even some pictures we never hung up from the shelves. I tossed out anything that felt too intimate, too connected to our time together. The stuff I could handle, I folded and placed into a box. The rest? I shredded or threw away. By the time I was done, the place felt emptier, like I had finally erased the last traces of myself from his life.
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