Mike’s Worry Grows
Mike couldn’t sit still. One morning, I found him staring at the window, lost in thought. “I need to see her, Emily,” he said, grabbing his keys.
He started following her, hoping to sneak a look into her new life. Each day, he’d return with stories of fleeting glimpses: Sarah crossing a street, the back of her head in a café.
It wasn’t much, but it was something for Mike to hold onto.