Michaella, a gifted writer, finds herself haunted by the memories of a love that slipped through her fingers. As she pens down her heartache and cherished moments with Gabrielle, an architect whose charm and warmth once made her world brighter, she...
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was how quiet the house was. No laughter, no voices, just the kind of stillness that felt almost unnatural in my parents' home. It took me a moment to remember why—everyone had already left, probably still riding the high of last night's wedding celebration. I blinked at the ceiling for a few minutes, letting the sunlight stream through the curtains and warm my skin. A quiet morning after the hustle was exactly what I needed.
Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed and wandered across the room, my feet sinking into the soft carpet. The air felt cool, a stark contrast to the steam-filled bathroom I entered. I let the hot water wash over me, trying to clear my mind. I couldn't help but think about the past few days—the wedding, the endless stream of relatives, and all the emotions that came with it.
After my shower, I dressed in something comfortable—a cream-colored sweater and a pair of leggings. I wrapped my hair in a towel and made my way downstairs. The emptiness of the house felt strange, almost haunting. I couldn't remember the last time I had the place to myself.
In the kitchen, I found solace in the simple routine of making tea. I chose a chamomile blend, something to soothe the nerves I didn't even realize were on edge. As I poured the hot water over the tea bag, I felt the warmth seep into my hands. I carried my cup over to the window, where I could see my father's garden in full bloom. The flowers, so bright and full of life, seemed to mock the emptiness I felt inside.
My thoughts started to drift, but then my phone buzzed on the table, jolting me back to reality. I glanced at the screen—Sarah. What could she need so early?
"Hey, Sarah," I said as I picked up the phone, trying to keep my voice steady while stirring my tea.
"Hi, Michaella. I'm sorry to bother you this early, but the book publishers have requested an urgent meeting. They said it's important and couldn't wait."
Her words sent a jolt of anxiety through me. "Did they mention what it's about?"
"Not in detail," Sarah replied, her tone a bit rushed. "But it sounded serious. They want you to come in as soon as possible."
I exhaled slowly, trying to keep the unease from creeping into my voice. "Okay, I'll get ready and head over there. Thanks for the heads-up, Sarah."
"Of course. See you soon."
As I ended the call, I set the phone down and stared at my tea. What could they want? My mind started racing through all the possible scenarios, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. So much for a peaceful morning. I quickly drank the rest of my tea, trying to savour the warmth before it dissipated entirely. Then, I went upstairs to change into something a bit more professional, all the while trying to push down the anxiety gnawing at my stomach.
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