The suitcase was under a pile of winter coats in the closet. If it hadn’t been for the unseasonable weather she might not have found it, noted it’s weight and caved to curiosity.
Inside she found his favourite jeans, some band tees and a couple other items he had claimed to have donated. Tucked in the front pocket was a letter adressed to her.
She was nearly at the end, weeping, when he came home.
“So that’s it?” She said. “You don’t love me anymore?”
“I’m not sure I ever did,” he said. “I just loved you loving me.”