Tessy's footsteps were heavy as she descended the stairs, her luggage clutched tightly in each hand.
Her face was puffy, tear-streaked, her eyes swollen from a long time of crying. Every step felt like a betrayal, yet it was the only way she knew to protect what was left of her sanity. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, but she forced herself to keep going, each step a silent scream.
Downstairs, Daniel paced the living room, his mind a whirlwind. When he heard the thump of her bags on the stairs, he looked up, startled, and saw her. A chill ran through him.
"Madam," he said, voice low but urgent, rushing to meet her halfway. "What are you doing with your bags?" He moved toward her.
She paused.
"I'm leaving," she said, voice hoarse. "And you shouldn't try to stop me."
He stepped in front of her, eyes filled with confusion and pleas.
But Tessy didn't care at that point.
