Sophie stared at the stack of boxes in her living room, each one filled with remnants of a life she was no longer living. She'd spent the entire morning packing away memories photos, trinkets, and the small gifts that Eli had given her over the past two years. Some she tucked away for safekeeping, unable to part with them. Others went into a pile destined for donation. It was a form of catharsis, albeit one that left her emotionally drained.
The breakup had shattered her in ways she hadn't anticipated. It wasn't just losing Eli that hurt; it was losing the future they had planned together. The quiet nights with books and tea, the road trips they had dreamed about, the life they were supposed to build. All of it felt like it had vanished in an instant.
To distract herself, Sophie dove headfirst into work. She volunteered for every project she could get her hands on, arriving early and staying late. It wasn't that she loved her job any more than she had before it was simply a way to fill the hours that stretched endlessly in Eli's absence.
Her colleagues noticed the change. "You're really pushing yourself," Claire, her manager, said one afternoon as Sophie handed in yet another completed report. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Sophie lied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just trying to stay productive."
Claire didn't push, but Sophie could feel her concern. It was the same look Maya had given her during their last coffee date. Sophie had been quiet, sipping her latte and staring out the window as Maya tried to engage her in conversation.
"You can't avoid talking about it forever, you know," Maya had said gently. "I get that you're hurting, but bottling it up isn't going to help."
Sophie had nodded, but she didn't have the energy to explain the depths of her grief. How could she put into words the ache of waking up every morning and reaching for someone who wasn't there? Or the way her chest tightened every time she walked past Eli's favorite café? It was easier to bury herself in work and pretend she was fine.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the office, Sophie returned home to find a small package on her doorstep. Her name was scrawled across the top in Eli's familiar handwriting. Heart pounding, she carried it inside and set it on the kitchen table. For a long moment, she just stared at it, unsure if she could handle whatever was inside.
Finally, she tore open the box. Inside was a collection of things she had left at Eli's apartment: a hoodie she had borrowed one chilly evening, a pair of earrings she'd forgotten after a rushed morning, and a book she'd lent Eli but never asked for back. Tucked among the items was a note.
Sophie,
I thought you might want these back. I also wanted to say thank you for everything. For loving me, for being patient with me, and for helping me grow into a better version of myself. I know we didn't end the way either of us wanted, but I'll always cherish what we had. You'll always have a piece of my heart.
Love, Eli
Sophie's hands trembled as she read the note. Tears blurred her vision, and she pressed the paper to her chest, as if she could somehow absorb Eli's words into her heart. She wanted to call her, to beg her to reconsider, but she knew it wouldn't change anything. Eli had made her decision, and Sophie had to respect that.
The next day, Sophie decided to take a different approach to her healing. She pulled out her old sketchbook, which had been gathering dust on a shelf for months. Art had always been her sanctuary, a way to process emotions she couldn't put into words. She spent hours hunched over the pages, letting her pencil move freely. She didn't think about technique or perfection she just let her feelings flow.
The first drawing was of a cracked heart, jagged lines radiating outward like shattered glass. The second was of two hands reaching for each other but never quite touching. By the third, she found herself sketching a phoenix, its wings outstretched as it rose from a bed of flames. It was the first time in weeks that she felt a glimmer of hope.
That evening, Maya came over with a bottle of wine and a bag of takeout. Sophie greeted her with a tired smile, grateful for the company.
"I brought your favorite," Maya said, holding up a box of sushi. "And no, you don't get to argue. You need to eat."
Sophie laughed softly, the sound foreign to her own ears. "Thanks, Maya. You're a lifesaver."
They sat on the couch, eating and chatting about mundane things work, mutual friends, the latest episode of a TV show they both loved. It was a relief to focus on something other than her own pain, even if only for a little while.
Eventually, the conversation turned to Eli. Maya didn't push, but Sophie found herself opening up anyway.
"I miss her," Sophie admitted, her voice breaking. "But I think she was right. We were hurting each other more than we were helping."
Maya nodded, her expression empathetic. "Breakups suck, no matter the reason. But you're doing the right thing by focusing on yourself. It's okay to grieve, Soph. Just don't lose sight of who you are."
Sophie nodded, her chest tightening with emotion. "I'm trying. It's just… hard."
"I know," Maya said, placing a comforting hand on Sophie's shoulder. "But you're one of the strongest people I know. You'll get through this. And I'll be here every step of the way."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Sophie allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would be okay.