Page 129 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

It’s been three days since Alessio left.

The apartment feels wrong.

Too neat.

Quiet.

Hollow.

I move through it like a ghost, my steps muffled against the hardwood floors.

His coffee mug sits in the sink, a faint lipstick smudge on the rim.

I’ve been using it as if it could connect me to him. To make him feel closer.

I should move on.

Instead, I stand there, staring at it like it might give me a reason to breathe again.

I fold the T-shirt I’ve been sleeping in, his T-shirt, pressing it to my chest before tucking it away in a drawer I know I won’t open for a long time.

He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The air tastes stale without him.

The walls seem thinner.

He’s texted me a few times.

Little things like, How are you feeling? Thinking about you. Miss you.

I answer, sometimes.

But it’s not the same.

It’s not him here, holding me through the wreckage he helped create.

And even though I miss him so much, it feels like something’s caving in inside my chest.

I’m furious too.

Furious at him for leaving.

And at myself for missing him anyway.

At the office, everything feels clinical.

The merger is still on track. Meetings blur together. Investors send congratulatory emails.

And I keep showing up.

Keep smiling. Keep pretending.

Denver drops a coffee on my desk one morning without a word, just a steady look that says, “I’m here if you need me.”

I give him a quick nod, pretending it doesn’t feel like the simplest kindness might break me.

"You’re doing great, Soph." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Almost too great."

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