10 years.
For 10 long years, he had lived next door, watching from afar as the life of the woman he once called his wife unfolded.
He saw her move to a new neighborhood, get a promotion, change her hairstyle and clothes.
He saw the men who occasionally walked her to her door, but none of them stayed for long.
Today, Malik noticed Shanaya getting off the bus.
She looked tired, but her gait still had the same energy he had loved so much.
He kept a safe distance, hiding in the evening shadows.
He waited until she entered the building, made sure the lights were on in her third floor apartment, and only then continued on his way.
Dex.
Malik often thought of himself by his real name when he was alone.
It was always difficult to explain why he continued this strange ghostly existence.
Wouldn’t it be easier to leave, start from scratch in a new city where no one knew his story? But he couldn’t.
