Abby
The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a warm glow that starkly contrasts with the cold feeling settling in my chest.
I’ve been up all night, haunted by Karl’s confession, the unending complications it brought into my life, and the dilemma of Adam’s unknown intentions. Now, packing my bags feels like I’m folding away pieces of a life that’s no longer within reach, no matter how close I almost came to trying to take it back.
I’m dressed in jeans and a hoodie for the train, and I’m almost done packing when the door swings open. I glance up, startled, and there he is—Karl, his eyes puffy and bloodshot, a day-old stubble darkening his jawline. It’s clear that he didn’t sleep much last night, either.
For a moment, he seems like a stranger, but the heartache I feel
