I stare at the coffee Alex had set out in front of me before he left to meet with his brother, gripping onto the handle of the mug.
I’ve yet to take a single sip of it, and it’s probably gone cold, but I keep holding it. It serves as something to keep my hands busy with, at least. A distraction.
And God knows I need one of those.
The silence in the house is suffocating me. The emptiness surrounding me is cemented by the ache in my chest that keeps screaming something is missing.
There should be kids running down the stairs like a pair of rhinos in a stampede, their hair in knots and their faces puffy from sleep. They should be here fighting over food and knocking over glasses and making me beg them to quiet down so I can focus on the news.
Instead, there’s only silence.
My sigh
