Around 6:30 PM on Thursday evening, Marilena sits on her couch, staring absently at the muted television. The faint glow of the screen reflects her mood—dim and lifeless. Max, her scruffy terrier, lies at her feet, occasionally lifting his head to glance at her with curious eyes.
Her phone buzzes on the coffee table, breaking the heavy silence. She leans forward and picks it up to see Christian's name on the screen.
"I'm outside," Christian says as soon as she answers. His voice carries its usual warmth, but there's an underlying firmness to it. "I came to pick up Max for a walk."
Marilena looks down at Max, who seems to perk up at the mention of his name. She sighs, standing up and walking to the window. Sure enough, Christian's car is parked just outside her apartment.
