With my heart doing something wildly uncomfortable in my chest, I made my way down the hall to the guest bedroom. Grey walls, black bedding, and an old framed painting of horses hanging on the wall. It was a completely different room. He’d gotten rid of all the yellow. That singular thought stuttered around my brain, breaking off little pieces of me in a way I couldn’t describe. No one had ever done anything like this for me. I sank down to the bed, unsure of what to do about everything he’d done. And why? It made no sense.
