Morning came without asking.
Lily knew it before she opened her eyes.
The house had that sound. That hollow, early sound where even breathing feels loud.
Mark was already up.
She heard drawers opening. A zipper. Shoes near the door.
Normal things. Routine things.
But today, every sound felt like a countdown.
She lay there staring at the ceiling, telling herself not to think.
Didn't work.
Down the hall, Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, shoes on, elbows resting on his knees.
He'd been awake for a while. Maybe all night. Hard to tell.
He heard Mark's voice downstairs. Casual. Half-asleep. Talking about traffic and flights.
So this is it, Ethan thought.
This is the morning.
He didn't feel excited.
Didn't feel relieved.
Just… aware.
Mark left fast.
A quick goodbye. A distracted kiss on Lily's cheek. A wave toward Ethan.
"Take care of things," Mark said, smiling.
Then the door closed.
The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed through the house.
And just like that—
They were alone.
Lily stayed where she was for a long minute.
Didn't move. Didn't breathe properly either.
It's just a day, she told herself.
Just a normal day.
But her body didn't believe it.
She finally got up and walked downstairs.
Ethan was in the kitchen, staring at the counter like it might say something back.
"Morning," she said softly.
"Morning."
That pause again.
Only now… it wasn't thin.
It was wide. Heavy.
"He's gone," Lily said.
"I know."
Neither of them smiled.
They made coffee. Drank it standing up. Didn't sit.
It felt safer that way.
"So," Ethan said after a while, "what's the plan?"
Lily shrugged. "No plan."
"Okay."
Silence.
The clock ticked. Loud. Annoying.
"I hate that it feels like this," Lily said suddenly.
"Like what?"
"Like something is supposed to happen," she replied.
"And if it doesn't, I'll still feel guilty."
Ethan nodded. "Yeah. Same."
They stood there, cups empty now, still not moving.
The morning dragged.
Lily tried to keep busy. Opened windows. Changed bedsheets. Anything that involved movement.
Ethan stayed mostly in his room, door open, pretending to work.
Every now and then, they crossed paths.
Each time felt intentional.
Each time felt like a test.
Around noon, Lily found herself sitting on the couch, staring at the TV without turning it on.
Ethan stood in the doorway.
"You okay?" he asked.
She didn't answer right away. Then, honestly, "I don't know."
He walked in and sat on the chair opposite her. Distance. Still distance.
"This isn't what I imagined," she said.
He frowned. "What did you imagine?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Something louder, maybe. Or clearer."
Instead, everything felt quiet. Too quiet.
"Maybe this is the clear part," Ethan said. "Just… not dramatic."
She looked at him. "You think clarity is this uncomfortable?"
He smiled faintly. "I think it usually is."
The afternoon heat settled in.
The house felt smaller somehow.
Lily stood near the window, watching people pass outside. Normal lives. Normal days.
"Do you think," she asked without turning,
"that people outside can tell when something's changing inside a house?"
Ethan shook his head. "No. I think they just keep walking."
She nodded. "Lucky them."
Later, the power didn't go out.
No storm. No candlelight.
Just daylight. Honest and bright.
Which somehow made it harder.
They ended up in the kitchen again. Always the kitchen.
Lily dropped a glass this time.
It shattered loudly.
She froze.
"Don't move," Ethan said quickly, stepping forward.
Their hands almost touched as he picked up the pieces.
Almost.
Both noticed.
Neither commented.
"I'm sorry," Lily said.
"It's okay," he replied. "It's just glass."
But it wasn't.
By evening, exhaustion crept in.
Not physical. Emotional.
Lily leaned against the counter, eyes closed.
"I don't want to be brave tonight," she said quietly.
Ethan looked at her. "You don't have to be."
"That scares me," she admitted.
He didn't pretend to misunderstand.
Dinner was simple. Barely eaten.
They sat across from each other, finally sitting, finally still.
"This day feels longer than it should," Lily said.
Ethan nodded. "Because we're paying attention."
She looked up. "Is that bad?"
"No," he said. "Just… dangerous."
She almost laughed.
Night came slowly.
No rain. No thunder.
Just silence.
They stood in the hallway again. That familiar place.
"This is the part I was afraid of," Lily said.
Ethan asked softly, "Which part?"
"The part where nothing happens," she replied.
"And yet… everything already has."
He swallowed.
"Lily," he said, careful, "we don't have to do anything today."
She nodded. "I know."
"But wanting to doesn't make us weak," he added.
She looked at him. Long. Searching.
"No," she said. "It just makes us human."
She turned toward her room.
Stopped.
"Ethan?"
"Yeah?"
"If tomorrow feels heavier," she said, "will you still be here?"
He didn't hesitate. "Yes."
She nodded. That was enough.
She went inside.
Ethan stayed in the hallway for a while after her door closed.
The house felt quiet again.
But this time, not empty.
More like… holding its breath.
Morning had come too soon.
And night—
Night was asking questions neither of them were ready to answer.
End of Chapter 14