I woke up this morning without noticing the change. I knew it happened, but it didn’t click.
I arrived in my confident lateness. I went about my routine as if nothing had happened. A cup of coffee, a bit of straightening up. Barely noticing empty spaces on shelves, or the absence of the small red box where her possessions were kept.
When I opened the journal where, as formality dictates, we forecast our days.
There, in the margin, neatly written was a final message to me.
The weight settled as I read it.
“Good luck, I am happy for you.”