The camera was the last thing she expected to find.
It sat inside a half-open drawer beneath the bed, hidden under old receipts, tangled charger wires, and a sweater that still smelled like him. Luna's fingers froze around the cold metal as if it might burn her. For a moment, she just stared at it, her chest tight, her breath uneven—like the room itself was watching her back.
The apartment was too quiet now.
No clinking of plates.
No soft humming from the kitchen.
No footsteps following her from room to room.
Just silence. The kind that screams when there's no one left to answer it.
Ethan had been gone for three days.
Three days since she came home drunk at dawn and found him on their bed, eyes closed, lips pale, hands resting on his chest like he was just sleeping. Three days since the paramedics shook their heads gently. Three days since the world kept moving while hers stopped.
Luna swallowed hard and turned the camera on.
The screen flickered.
Then she saw herself.
There she was—curled on their bed, fast asleep, hair messy, face relaxed in a way she hadn't been in months. Ethan wasn't in the frame, but she knew he was there. She could feel him behind the lens. Watching. Loving. Staying.
Her throat tightened.
The video timestamp blinked: 2:47 A.M.
She remembered that night. She'd come home late, heels in her hand, makeup smudged, annoyed that he was still awake. Annoyed that he always waited.
The video cut.
Another clip played.
Morning light spilled through the curtains. Luna was standing in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone, barely acknowledging the plate of food placed in front of her. She didn't say thank you. She didn't even look at him.
Her chest began to ache.
One by one, the videos continued—moments she never knew were being kept. Moments she never thought mattered enough to be remembered.
Until the screen went black.
A final file appeared.
"If you're watching this, I'm already gone."
Her breath shattered.
Ethan's face filled the screen. Thinner. Paler. His eyes tired—but still gentle. Still hers.
"Hi, love," he said softly, as if she were right there. "I'm sorry I never told you."
The room spun.
"I didn't want to be another burden in your life," he continued, voice shaking just slightly. "I knew you were already tired of me… but I loved you. And loving you—even alone—was enough."
Luna covered her mouth, sobbing.
"I stayed because I wanted to," Ethan whispered. "Even when you didn't love me back."
The video ended.
The camera slipped from her hands and hit the floor.
Luna collapsed beside it, her cries filling the apartment that once held a quiet kind of love—a love she didn't recognize until it was already dead.
And this was only the beginning.