42. P E N E L O P E

The past two weeks had felt like an endless loop of heartache and frustration, as though I was living in a bad dream that refused to let me wake. Ever since the breakup with Henry made headlines, the world outside had become too overwhelming. I was suffocating beneath the weight of my own emotions and the relentless attention from reporters, journalists, and even strangers who were all eager to pry into the details of my private life. I stopped answering calls altogether, letting my phone buzz uselessly across the room as I buried myself beneath blankets and tried to block out the world.

Henry had gone silent, too. There were no signs of him anywhere—no statements, no pictures splashed across the gossip sites, no sightings at any of his usual haunts. It was as if he had vanished into thin air, and a part of me wondered if he felt the same choking pressure I did, hiding away