The days seemed to blur into one another, each carrying a sense of inevitability that I couldn’t quite define.
I found myself scrolling through photos on my phone, old memories that felt like they belonged to another life.
Her face smiling back at me in happier times.
Each image was a reminder of what once was, now replaced by emptiness.
The emails from her lawyer were still unread, a testament to my reluctance to dive into the legal jargon that had become part of my new reality.
I couldn’t bring myself to open them, fearing the clinical detachment that would glare back at me.
Instead, I focused on the mundane tasks of everyday life, hoping they’d drown out the noise.
But every task carried its own weight.
The gym was no longer a place to unwind but a venue where I fought against the ghosts of inadequacies.
The weights seemed heavier, the treadmill longer.
