June’s Point of View
I’ve been watching Dos for a while now—silently, cautiously—my eyes tracking every slight movement he made as he absentmindedly poked at his food. He sat across from me at the dining table, but it felt like there were miles of space between us.
His body was present. But his mind? Lost somewhere far.
Ever since he walked through the door earlier this evening, I knew something was wrong. His shoulders sagged like the weight of the world had settled on them. His eyes were dull, like the spark I loved had dimmed overnight. When I tried to talk to him, his replies were barely sentences. Just one-word answers.
I kept asking him if he was okay. And every time, he just said, “Yes.”
But I knew him. I knew us. And I didn’t believe him.
Still, I didn’t press. Sometimes, peo
