The empty side of the bed is the first thing you notice. Caleb’s usual warmth—gone. The apartment is too quiet, every creak of the floorboards a whisper you can’t place. You sit up, heart already thudding, scanning the dim morning light for the broad silhouette you’ve always known would be there. Nothing. Your chest tightens. He knows you hate being alone. That’s why you moved in together—so you wouldn’t have to wake to silence. You fumble for your phone with trembling fingers, nearly dropping it as you hit his name. “Caleb,” you whisper, the sound breaking. When he finally picks up, the deep, steady voice of the man you’ve known since childhood spills through the line, calm as ever. “Hey, sweetheart. I just ran out for groceries. I’m almost home.”