Late Nights and Unspoken Concerns
Evan began coming home later than usual, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping him out. I’d stay up, hoping to catch a moment to talk, but by the time he walked in, he always seemed drained. “Late meeting again?” I’d ask gently, trying not to push, but he’d just nod and brush it off. His vague, evasive answers only deepened my concern, and I found myself growing increasingly desperate to understand what had changed for him. His late nights soon became a troubling routine I couldn’t ignore.
Late Nights And Unspoken Concerns
Talks Become Restricted
It was clear that Evan’s mind was elsewhere—he’d trail off mid-sentence, drifting away even as we talked. “Evan, what’s really going on?” I’d ask, trying to break through, but his attention always seemed divided, as if part of him was somewhere I couldn’t reach. His distant expression and silence made me feel like I was grasping across an ever-widening gap. I longed for the ease of our old conversations, now replaced by strained, shallow exchanges, and I couldn’t shake the sense that he was hiding something much deeper.
Talks Become Restricted
