The sound of the key turning in the lock was the only thing that reminded me I was arriving home. There was no feeling of coziness, no good expectation. Just more weight on a body that already carried hours of work, difficult customers, and the exhausting routine that repeated itself every day.
I dropped my bag on the sofa, took a deep breath, and headed straight to the kitchen.
As always, the sink was full, the breakfast dishes still waiting for me, the house silent and messy as if it were only my responsibility to take care of it. No matter how exhausted I was, the obligation to organize everything always fell on me.
I washed the dishes, put the clothes in the washing machine, quickly mopped the floor, and started preparing dinner. Every movement felt like it weighed a ton. I felt my
