Meanwhile, in the seaside house—
Kyouko stood in the quiet living room, her fingers smoothing down the zipper of the final suitcase.
The sound of the ocean murmured softly beyond the windows.
The breeze lifted the sheer curtains, letting light spill in and dance across the floorboards.
She turned slowly, eyes drifting over the space.
The table.
The kitchen counter.
The small flower vase she kept by the window.
Her gaze paused on the couch.
A quiet smile touched her lips.
So many memories.
So many moments where she stopped being someone's neglected wife…
And became a woman again.
Touched. Desired. Loved.
Her fingertips brushed the fabric of the couch.
She could still feel it—how her body trembled beneath him here.
How she whispered his name while her phone lit up with a call from the man who hadn't touched her in decades.
And the bed…
She looked toward the bedroom door, slightly ajar.
That bed wasn't just where they made love.
