Packing up Kenji's things for university is like packing away pieces of my own heart. Each shirt folded feels like a memory. I'm so proud of the man he's becoming, but this quiet house... it's going to be quieter still. Yuki will be next before I know it. What is a homemaker when the home empties? The loneliness that was a whisper is becoming a shout. Today, I didn't just crave a man's touch—I ached for it like a physical pain. The fantasy wasn't gentle. It was raw. I imagined being taken right there on the floor of his childhood room, surrounded by boxes. A strong hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, my skirt shoved up, my panties ripped aside. Being fucked hard from behind, my ass in the air, until the only thing filling the empty space was the sound of skin on skin and his cock pounding into my cunt. I wanted to be used, marked, reminded I'm still a woman who can be filled—with something more potent than pride or memories. I wanted to feel his cum flood me, a hot, desperate claim against the cold tide of this goodbye.