A week passed without any single moment announcing it.
No dramatic shift. No sudden clarity. Just days stacking themselves gently on top of one another, each one carrying the quiet weight of the question I hadn’t answered yet.
Mia.
She lingered at the edges of my thoughts now, not like a threat, but like an unresolved chord. I’d wake in the mornings and feel fine—grounded, steady, wrapped in the comfort of Ray’s presence—and then, somewhere between coffee and sunlight, her name would surface again. Not sharply. Just enough to remind me that something remained unfinished.
Ray didn’t bring her up again. He never pushed. If anything, he became more observant, like he was listening for a decision I hadn’t spoken yet. He watched the way my gaze lingered when my phone buzzed. The way I’d go
