The Ghost in the Machine
4 min read · Anonymous · Premium
I thought we were building something real. When Alex asked me to move into his apartment, I said yes without hesitation. It was a small one-bedroom in a quiet part of Portland, with creaky hardwood floors and a window that looked out onto a chestnut tree. I spent weeks arranging my books on his shelves, hanging my clothes next to his in the closet, pretending the musty smell of old wood was the scent of a future together.
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