THE UNBROKEN ROAD

The apartment smelled like dust and time.

Daniel stood in the doorway, his fingers still curled around the key, his breath uneven. His chest was tight, like something inside him was bracing for impact.

Nothing had changed. That was the worst part.

The bookshelves were still lined with Olivia's favorites—spines worn from the number of times she had run her fingers along them, searching for a passage she had loved. The blanket she used to wrap herself in was draped over the couch, untouched. Her favorite mug, the one with the tiny crack in the handle, sat on the kitchen counter.

Like she had just stepped out and would be back any minute.

Daniel's stomach twisted.

But she wasn't coming back.

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. The silence was oppressive, thick with memories. Every inch of this place held a ghost of her.

The way she used to hum to herself while cooking. The scent of her shampoo that had once lingered in the air. The laughter that used to bounce off these walls.

Now, there was only emptiness.

Unpacking the Past

Daniel's fingers skimmed over the back of the couch as he walked through the living room. His throat was dry.

He had thought he could do this. Thought he was strong enough.

But being here felt like trying to breathe underwater.

He moved toward the coffee table, his eyes catching on a small pile of papers. A mix of old mail, a few unopened letters. But there, half-tucked beneath them, was a notebook.

Olivia's notebook.

Daniel stared at it.

He had forgotten about this.

She had always carried it with her, scribbling down thoughts, ideas, fragments of stories she never finished.

His fingers hesitated before picking it up.

The cover was worn, the edges of the pages curled. He flipped it open, his heart pounding.

The first few pages were filled with lists—grocery reminders, notes about books she wanted to read, random doodles.

Then he turned another page.

And there it was.

His name.

Daniel—

His breath caught.

Her Words, His Wounds

The ink was slightly smudged, like she had pressed her pen too hard against the paper.

"I don't know how to help him."

Daniel's chest ached.

"He carries so much weight, but he won't let me share it. I see it in his eyes, in the way he wakes up in the middle of the night, breathing too fast. In the way he smiles but never quite reaches me."

He gripped the edge of the notebook, his knuckles white.

"I love him so much it hurts."

His vision blurred.

"But I don't know if love is enough to fix something that's breaking."

Daniel closed the notebook, pressing his palm against the cover like it could somehow hold back the storm inside him.

She had known.

She had seen the cracks even before he did.

And now she was gone.

A sharp knock at the door made him flinch. He wiped at his face quickly, clearing his throat.

Another knock.

Daniel exhaled and set the notebook down.

Unexpected Company

He opened the door to find Emily standing there.

She had changed out of the professional attire she always wore when she was at work. Now, she just looked… tired.

"Didn't think you'd actually come," she said.

Daniel leaned against the doorframe. "Neither did I."

Emily glanced past him, into the apartment. "Feels weird, doesn't it?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah."

She hesitated before stepping inside.

Daniel watched as her eyes scanned the room, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a breath and walked toward the bookshelf.

She ran her fingers along the spines, stopping at a familiar one—Olivia's favorite poetry collection.

"She used to read this to me when I was little," Emily murmured. "I hated it at the time. Thought it was boring."

Daniel smirked faintly. "She had a thing for poetry."

Emily turned the book over in her hands. "You know she wrote some, right?"

Daniel's brow furrowed. "No."

Emily nodded. "She never showed anyone. Said it wasn't good enough." She smiled faintly. "She was always like that. Always thought she had to be perfect."

Daniel swallowed hard.

Emily set the book down. "What are you going to do with her stuff?"

Daniel exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

Emily studied him. "You should take something. Something that matters."

Daniel glanced around the apartment, his eyes landing back on the notebook.

"I already did," he said quietly.

Emily followed his gaze. She didn't say anything, just nodded.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then she turned toward him. "You don't have to do this alone, you know."

Daniel met her eyes.

For months, he had been carrying this weight by himself, convinced that no one else could understand it. But Emily had lost Olivia too.

And maybe… just maybe… they didn't have to grieve alone.

Daniel nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

Letting Go, Holding On

They spent the next few hours sorting through Olivia's things.

It wasn't easy. Every item felt like another goodbye.

But with each box they packed, each memory they shared, the weight felt a little lighter.

Not gone.

But bearable.

When the night stretched on and exhaustion set in, Emily stood up. "I should go."

Daniel nodded. "Thanks for coming."

She hesitated, then pulled him into a brief hug.

"Don't disappear again," she muttered.

Daniel smirked. "No promises."

She rolled her eyes but smiled before heading for the door.

Daniel watched her go, then turned back to the apartment.

He picked up Olivia's notebook again, running his fingers over the cover.

Maybe he would read more of it.

Maybe not.

But for the first time, he didn't feel like he was drowning.

The fight wasn't over.

But he was still standing.

And for now, that was enough.