The movie played, but I couldn't tell you what it was about. Something loud, something funny—I barely registered any of it. My eyes were fixed on the screen, sure, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. Every minute stretched like it had something personal against me, dragging itself out just to remind me how slow time could be when you were alone.
At one point, I glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. 2:46 p.m. I swore it stayed that way for five minutes straight. I checked again. Still 2:46. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I wasn't reading it right. Or maybe that's just what happens when you miss someone so much—time itself starts mocking you.
I didn't want to let it win. Didn't want to sit here, rotting in silence, letting my thoughts spiral back to her over and over again. So by three, I shut the TV off, opened my laptop, and pulled up work.
