On Saturday, the day felt endless.

Eloise spent the hours trying to outrun her own thoughts, but she failed every time.

She organized the bookshelf in her room. Tried to read a novel, but reread the same page three times without understanding a single line. She wiped down the house, cleaning things that were already clean.

Anything to keep from thinking.

But thinking was unavoidable.

'Did he leave because he regretted it? Because it meant nothing to him?'

That night, the pillow felt