Jake
The morning felt like a haze, a blur of tension and unease that settled into my chest like a heavy weight. I sat at the kitchen island, staring at the untouched plate of food in front of me. Eggs, toast, coffee, all the usual staples of a meal I couldn't bring myself to eat. My stomach churned with a different kind of hunger, one that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the pit of worry that had consumed me.
I couldn't stop thinking about Laura. About the way she had refused to answer my calls, the silence that screamed louder than any words she could have spoken. My phone sat on the counter beside me, screen dark, mocking me. I picked it up, scrolling through the call log that was filled with her name. Missed call after missed call.
