Vanessa Pov May 2026

I didn't look right away. Instead, I let myself imagine all the things it could be—an apology, an explanation, even just a single "I'm sorry" —before finally turning the screen toward me.

Of course.

Work email.

I set the phone down and pressed my palm flat against the cool glass of the window. Outside, a couple hurried past under a shared umbrella, laughing. They didn't seem to mind the storm.

He still hasn't called.

My phone buzzed.

Three days since the argument. Three days of silence stretching between us like a canyon I wasn't sure either of us knew how to cross. My coffee had gone cold an hour ago, but I kept holding the mug anyway. The warmth was gone, but the weight of it in my hands felt like something to hold onto. vanessa pov

I sat by the window, watching the rain trace slow paths down the glass. The city looked blurred—like a memory trying to come into focus.