MEANDRA I woke with a heaviness in my chest, the kind that made it hard to breathe without feeling like something was sitting atop my ribs. The morning light crept in through the shutters, casting long shadows across the floorboards, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I laid still, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if it might somehow offer me clarity—or at the very least, numbness. But none came. Only the quiet churn of thoughts I didn’t want to hold. There was a deep, gnawing unease I couldn’t shaket. I should’ve felt relief that the night was over, but instead, a dull ache spread through me—part fatigue, part regret. I hadn’t even fully dressed for bed last night. My skirt was wrinkled, my hair pinned haphazardly against the pillow. I should never have gone to see Alejandro. That much was certain now. I remembered the handkerchief in my hand—folded, pressed, and carried with a foolish sense of hope. That he might remember it. That he might remember me. But he hadn’t. Not really
Last Updated : 2025-05-15
LOGIN
