The Space Between Them
Elena did not go back home. Not the next day. Not the day after. She stayed in her sister’s guest room, living out of a half-unpacked suitcase. The room smelled faintly of lavender air freshener. The bed was too soft. The window faced another building, so sunlight barely entered. Everything felt temporary. Naomi left early for work each morning, but Elena remained behind, sitting at the small dining table with a cup of tea that always went cold. She told herself she needed space. But space had a strange way of making thoughts louder. A friend from church mentioned it casually after Sunday service. “Oh, I saw Michael at the parent meeting on Friday,” the woman said, smiling. “He looked proud. Daniel won a math prize.” Elena forced a polite smile. “That’s nice.” “He was quiet thou
- Writer
