Under the Grit

Start Again

Three days.

Three god damn days.

Evangeline stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, the soft light filtering through the curtains barely reaching her. She hadn't opened them since Ben left. The once-familiar space felt foreign now, as though the shadows cast by the furniture were different, as though the bed beneath her didn't belong to her anymore.

She hadn't cried, not yet. She thought maybe she should, that the tears would offer some kind of release, but they didn't come. Instead, there was just this heavy emptiness that sat in her chest, pressing down harder with each passing day.

The energy to move, to get up, to even open her phone and face the outside world felt like a monumental task. So she didn't. The most she'd managed was getting a glass of water from the kitchen or nibbling on a piece of toast when her stomach twisted in protest. Even those small actions felt like too much.

Her eyes shifted to the bedside table, where her phone sat face down. She knew there were messages waiting-Tilly, Mary-Beth, probably even Arthur. But she hadn't checked. She wasn't ready to face their questions, their concern, their attempts to make her feel better.

She exhaled slowly, turning onto her side and curling up tighter beneath the blankets. Her mind replayed the events of three days ago like a broken record. Ben's words, his anger, the sound of the ring hitting the wall and disappearing into the shadows. The silence that had followed after he slammed the door.

Her hand brushed against the bare skin of her left ring finger, the absence of the band feeling heavier than its presence ever had. It was over. That thought echoed in her mind over and over, but it didn't feel real. Not yet.

The sound of a knock at the door startled her, breaking the quiet that had filled the house since Ben's departure. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she considered ignoring it, letting whoever it was think she wasn't home. But then the knock came again, firmer this time.

With a heavy sigh, she forced herself to sit up, the motion making her head spin slightly. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet brushing against the cool floor as she tried to gather the strength to move. Another knock.

She dragged herself to the door, her body sluggish, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. When she opened it, she blinked in surprise at the sight of Tilly standing there, a bag slung over her shoulder and a look of quiet determination on her face.

"Hey," Tilly said simply, her eyes scanning Evangeline with a mix of concern and resolve. "I figured you'd be like this. So I brought reinforcements."

Before Evangeline could respond, Tilly stepped inside, setting the bag on the counter. She turned back to Evangeline, raising an eyebrow. "Alright. Shower, change, and eat. In that order. I'm not leaving until you do."

Evangeline blinked at her, the surprise giving way to a faint flicker of something she hadn't felt in days-gratitude. "Tilly, I-"

"Nope," Tilly interrupted, holding up a hand. "No excuses. Let's go. Move."

Evangeline blinked again, Tilly's determined expression cutting through the fog in her mind. For a moment, she felt like arguing, retreating back into the numbness that had cocooned her for the past three days. But the sharp edge of Tilly's tone, the no-nonsense look in her eyes, made it clear there was no room for negotiation.

"Tilly, I'm not-"

"You are," Tilly interrupted again, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "You're not staying in bed another second. Shower. Change. Eat. We'll talk after that, but for now, you're listening to me."