I spent the day at home with Whitney, and it did not take long before I realized something was off. She had been quiet all morning, moving through the house on autopilot. Her usual energy was missing, that spark that made even mundane moments feel vibrant. I watched her from the kitchen as she stared out the window, her gaze unfocused.
"Whitney, you, okay?" I asked, leaning against the counter, trying to sound casual, though concern was growing inside me.
She turned to me, startled like she had not noticed I was there. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied quickly, a small smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
I knew her too well to believe that. "You seem a little... distant today."
She shrugged; her shoulders heavy. "Just thinking, I guess."
There was something about how she said it like the weight of those thoughts was pulling her under. I moved closer, sitting next to her on the couch, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Wanna talk about it?"
