NOAH
But it didn't feel like relief. It felt like a hollowed-out ache in the center of my chest. I tried to rationalize it.
I could get a new job.
A normal job with a normal boss who didn't make frustrating his employee his source of entertainment or demand I fly across the Atlantic on an hour's notice.
I could have a serene environment, regular hours, and a life that was boring but safe. It sounded perfect on paper. So why did it feel like I was mourning?
I thought about what was waiting for me. My small studio apartment. The silence. No Cassian. No Cyan. No chaos. Just… nothing.
Spain had been terrifying, yes. It had been dangerous and loud and traumatic. But it had felt alive. Everything about home suddenly felt stagnant and gray.
The car pulled up to my modest apartment complex. I recognized the familiar cracks in the sidewalk and the faded awning of the bodega on the ground floor.
