Elaine
The usual clatter of utensils, the scrape of chairs, the low hum of conversation—it all reached me as a blur, fading into a background that I could barely register. I sat at the head of the dining room table, staring at my plate, poking at food I had no desire to eat. Helen’s culinary offerings sat before me, steaming and fragrant, but I couldn’t focus on them. I couldn’t focus on anything except the relentless replaying of yesterday.
Elaine was off to work by now, probably smiling at customers, moving gracefully behind the counter, maybe laughing at some small joke Helen had whispered her way while preparing breakfast. And I… I was sitting here, gnawing at my guilt, at the memory of how badly we’d parted.
Yesterday. How had I managed to ruin everything so completely? I had woken
