DAISY

The clock on the nightstand read just past nine in the morning. Beside me, Brian’s side of the bed was already empty, though the faint, comforting scent of his cedarwood cologne still lingered on the pillow.

Usually, I was up before him, energized and ready to dive into the morning market reports. But lately, a deep, heavy exhaustion had settled into my very bones. For the past three weeks, waking up felt like pulling myself out of thick, heavy clay. I felt permanently drained, as if a quiet tide had rolled in and washed away all my physical strength.

I rolled onto my back, placing a hand over my...