The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. I stirred, feeling the gentle rhythm of Carmen's breath beside me. She was still asleep, her face relaxed, her features softened in the early light. Watching her, I felt a mix of emotions—love, gratitude, and a lingering sense of unease.
It had been a day since I'd noticed Carmen leaving mysteriously, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had happened. But today, I decided to push those thoughts aside. Today, I wanted to focus on the present, on the peaceful moments that seemed so rare and precious.
I slipped out of bed quietly, trying not to wake Carmen. The coolness of the wooden floor against my feet was refreshing. As I walked to the kitchen, I marveled at the sense of normalcy that had begun to creep back into our lives. It wasn't perfect—far from it—but it was something to hold on to.