Dakota traced a finger along the edge of the mirror, her breath fogging the glass. She used to love looking at her reflection—fixing her hair, practicing a smile before a first date, studying the way her eyes lit up when she laughed.

But now, when she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

Her cheeks were hollow, her once-bright eyes dulled. The weight of too many goodbyes, too many broken promises, had settled into the shadows beneath them. She had tried to be enough—for him, for herself—but love, it seemed, had a way of slipping through her fingers no matter how tightly she held on.

She still heard his voice in the quiet spaces of her mind, still felt the ghost of his touch when she wrapped her arms around herself at night. He had told her she was his world. That he would never leave.

But love had a cruel way of turning mirrors into windows—showing her the truth she refused to see.

Because when she looked at her reflection now, she didn’t just see herself. She saw the empty space where he used to stand.