Unbeknownst
I liked my routines because they were mine.
And yet, somehow, none of that ever seemed to count.
Inside the house, another burst of laughter erupted, louder this time, infectious. It sounded like it belonged to another version of me. A parallel-universe Ellie who had followed the script more closely. The one who had brought someone home, who fit neatly into the glowing windows and shared jokes and collective warmth.
I wondered what she was like. Happier? Or just better at playing the part?
I pulled my phone from my pocket, more out of reflex than intention, and checked the screen. Nothing. No new messages. No missed calls. No notifications trying to pull me back into anyone else’s orbit.
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