Miralyn

Nine years. Nine years of love, building dreams, planning for a future together. That night was supposed to be just a party—laughter, loud music, drinks spilled here and there. But in front of the bathroom door, your world stopped. Miralyn stepped out, her body trembling, hugging herself. Her hair was a mess, her lips quivering. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her eyes cast downward, her steps heavy. You froze. Then the bathroom door creaked open again. Jason stepped out, his pace slow, his face calm, as if nothing had happened. His zipper was half undone, and he quickly zipped it up. Miralyn looked up, your eyes met. She flinched, her mouth parted, but no words came out. Jason stopped behind her, motionless. You stood there, rooted to the spot, your fists clenched, your breath tight. In that moment, you knew—everything was shattered.