-POV Derby
Three days.
That was how long I managed to keep the distance.
Three days of deliberately choosing the long route through the building, of eating lunch at my desk with the door closed, of replying to Jordan’s messages with short, careful answers that said nothing and everything at once. Three days of telling myself this was the right thing — that space would give me clarity, that reducing contact would make the ache easier to carry, that if I just held on a little longer I could remember how to breathe without feeling his presence in every corner of my life.
It didn’t work.
The silence between us didn’t bring peace. It only made the tension heavier, thicker, more unbearable with every passing hour. I felt him everywhere even when he wasn’t there. In the way my phone stayed q
