Zufia traced the edge of the chipped mug with her fingertip. The lukewarm tea had gone bitter, mirroring the taste in her mouth. Yesterday. It was a word that hummed with a strange, discordant energy. Yesterday was the last time. The last time she'd felt the familiar press of his body against hers, the last time her fingers had tangled in his hair, the last time she'd whispered his name into the curve of his neck.

Liam. Just the sound of it could still crack her resolve.

They hadn't planned it that way, of course. There was no dramatic announcement, no tearful “this is goodbye.” The ending had been a slow, insidious unraveling, like a threadbare sweater starting to come apart at the seams. The spark, once so vibrant, had dulled into a polite flicker. They were going through the motions, each touch a reminder of what they were no longer.

The sex… that was the hardest part to reconcile. It had been familiar, predictable, almost… nostalgic. Like dancing to a song they both knew by heart, but the music had lost its rhythm. Afterwards, they lay in silence, a vast, empty space separating them despite the narrow mattress. Zufia had stared at the ceiling, tracing the cracks on the plaster, while Liam, she knew, was looking at his phone.

It wasn't anger that filled her now, but a heavy, suffocating sadness. A feeling of being adrift. She remembered the first time they made love, a breathless, clumsy, beautiful mess. It felt like they were creating something magical, something that would last forever. Now, that magic had evaporated, leaving behind only the hollow echo of what used to be.

Why? The question replayed in her mind like a broken record. There was no grand betrayal, no dramatic falling out. Just a slow, quiet drifting apart. Was it her fault? Was it his? Or, as some of her friends whispered, was it just “one of those things”?

Zufia got up and went to the window. The city lights were a blurry halo in the rain-slicked street. It was a beautiful mess out there, too. Just like them.

She thought about the last touch, the last kiss, the last whispered words. They weren’t charged with love, not anymore. They were… gentle, maybe. Or maybe just resigned. And that’s what hurt the most. The acceptance that this was the end, that the story they had begun so brightly was now over.

She wouldn't forget yesterday. The weight of it, the lingering ache, would be a part of her now. But it wouldn't define her. It was time to write the next chapter, even if, for now, that chapter felt daunting and unknown. She had to learn to dance to a new rhythm, alone for now. The silence, hopefully, would one day be filled with a different kind of music.

Tags: zufia, anal, anal-angels.com, home, boyfriend, bigtits, teen, fucked, cumshot, bigass, bigdick