Sofia had been watching me for days, her worry carving deeper lines into her usually bright face with every silent meal and every time I stared blankly at the wall, lost in memories I couldn’t escape. One evening, as we sat on the couch, she turned to me with a determined glint in her eyes.
“Elena, this isn’t healthy,” she said, her voice cutting through. “You’ve been cooped up here like a ghost, replaying everything in your head on loop. We need to get out. Just for a bit. Nothing fancy. Just a simple dinner somewhere low-key. You and me. It might help to breathe fresh air and talk about something, anything, other than him.”
I hesitated, my stomach twisting into knots at the mere idea of stepping beyond the apartment door. The space felt safe in its isolation, even if it was starting to
