As we land in New Haven and make our way back to the hotel, the atmosphere between Andy and me is heavy with tension, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavily in the air like a suffocating fog. The jet lag and emotional turmoil have left me drained, my shoulders sagging under the weight of exhaustion and frustration.
The prospect of facing another awkward encounter with Andy is daunting, each step closer to the hotel feeling like a march towards an inevitable confrontation.
As we step into the hotel lobby, the familiar sights and sounds only serve to amplify my sense of unease. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I approach the front desk, my voice trembling slightly as I address the receptionist.
"Excuse me," I manage to say, though the words feel heavy on my ton
