An evening with alpha

d by the droplets sliding down, as if the world outside were an unfinished watercolor painting. I held a wine glass by the stem, swirlin

least it should have been. But even now, with a life that could be consi

walked over to the table and picked up the device, seeing my mot

m, carrying that tone of authority she

my hometown. Since leaving, I had promised myself I would never go back. Bu

trying to soun

d you know how important this is fo

re she would be the center of attention, while I remained in the shadows

fiber of my being screamed against

ing to that place made me nauseous, but at the same time, some pa

. The sound of the rain continued to fill the space, but it couldn't drown out the restlessness growing inside me.

de friends, built a career, reinvented myself. But there was still a part of me tethered to the roots I had worked so h

ht. Her voice was an anchor

back?" she asked,

, trying to mask my discomfort. "My mother pr

g in her voice irritated me a little. Celine knew en

get there, attend the wedding, an

You know they'll try

convince myself than her. I needed to

for long. The truth was that no matter how many walls I ha

ragged me back to memories I was trying to bury. The betrayals, the humiliations, the constant feeling of being less. Everything felt as vivid as it had been

right back then, as if we were destined to be together. Until we weren't. Not because we didn't want to be, but because I was never enough

what was playing, but it was better than silence. I grabbed my laptop and started working on a project I had been putting off, something to occupy my

ing the sound of the rain and accumulated fatigue envelop me. I couldn't avoid what was coming