CLAIRE

Blake's last morning with us started earlier than expected. I woke up to the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen, the clock read seven AM.

Julian was still asleep beside me, one arm thrown over his eyes. I slipped out of bed quietly and found Blake making pancakes. "You're up early," I observed.

"Couldn't sleep," Blake admitted, flipping a pancake with more force than necessary. "Kept thinking about leaving."

"Having second thoughts?" I asked, pouring myself coffee.

"No," Blake said quickly. "Yes, maybe a little."

I leaned against the counter, watching him work. "You've been here almost a month," I said. "It makes sense that leaving feels weird."...