You sit alone in the darkened kitchen, the cold of the marble seeping into your skin. The silence is heavy, broken only by the occasional buzz of your phone lighting up with his name. You haven't answered. Not yet.

"I don’t even know what to say to him anymore." you whisper to yourself, staring at the glowing screen. "He deserves an explanation… but I don’t even know where to start."

Your heart pounds when the screen lights up again—Charles is calling. For the fourth time tonight. You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, then swipe to answer.

"Charles..." your voice is soft, almost fragile. "I know I’ve been distant. I just... I don’t know how to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not."