Bittersweet Goodbye

Evelyn

Morning arrived quicker than expected, rousing me before the sun had fully risen. Clara had taken the wine bottle from my hand and lulled me to sleep, her presence soothing but only temporarily. I’d cried myself to sleep into her arms, the tears relentless. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I drifted off, only that I’d slept earlier than usual. My body, weighed down by stress, had forced itself into rest, but it was also the reason I was awake now—my mind refusing to grant me even a second beyond my usual routine.

Clara’s comfort might have dulled the ache last night, but the moment my eyes opened, the familiar sting of pain returned. It was as sharp as ever as if it had never left.

I sat up, exhaling a weary sigh. Despite the hours of sleep, I didn’t feel the usual grogginess, nor the need to rub the sleep from my eyes. Surely, rest had come, but peace hadn’t followed. I didn’t expect it to. The fact that I’d slept at all with the storm raging inside me was a miracle in it