I toss and turn in bed, the sheets tangled around my legs, offering no comfort. The clock on the nightstand ticks away, each second amplifying the turmoil in my mind. I'm trying to shake the image of Iris's face from my thoughts—the hurt in her eyes when I had tried to reach out, the way she had asked for space as if it were a lifeline. How did we get to this point? The fight erupted so suddenly, and now the silence stretches between us like an unbridgeable chasm. I miss her fiercely, a constant ache in my chest that no amount of distraction can alleviate. The success of the magazine feels hollow without sharing it with the one person who matters most to me.