It's been five days. It’s been five long days since I got back from Paris. And almost as long as I’ve been hiding at home. Apart from Mark who picked me up at the station and brought me my dog, as well as my trips to the physiotherapist, I remained locked up. God bless the inventor of grocery home delivery!
I don't want to see anyone. I don't need to be asked how my weekend in the capital went, or even to be asked about Leo. That's why I carefully avoided any phone calls from Madelyn, for example. Mark did try to question me a little in the car, but in front of my brief answers, he quickly gave up. He filled the silence by telling me about his cafe-restaurant project, and for that, I thank him.
Leo left me several messages, whether by text or email. But for the past two days, he has been
