For years, I believed I was building a future with the man I loved. Then, one ordinary week forced me to look at our relationship in a way I never had before.
The apartment always smelled faintly of coffee in the mornings.
Eight years of shared mugs in the same cabinet, his hoodies folded next to mine, photos from three different vacations hanging slightly crooked above the couch. At 30, I thought I was right where I was supposed to be, with my future figured out.
Until a few months ago.
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