Unpredictable Love Ep. 3

She stepped out of the bathroom, barely twenty, hair damp and clinging to her neck, skin fresh from the rinse. On the outside, she looked ready for the day but the way she held her arms close, eyes darting down, lips twitching like she was searching for the right words, said otherwise. There was quite heaviness in her, like confidence was something she hadn't worn in a while.

She came down the stairs slowly, each step light but hesitant, like she was afraid of making noise in a house that had grown too quiet. Her hair was still damp, sticking to her neck in thin strands, and the soft cotton of her clothes looked fresh but almost to clean against the uncertain way she moved. She looked like someone who had gone through the motions of getting ready, hoping it might make her feel more like herself. It hadn't.

Voices drifted in from the living room, her family member's low and steady voices, someone is talking louder, rising and falling with whatever show they were watching or arguing about. The sound grounded her for a second, reminded her that life was moving forward in the other room, even if she still felt stuck.

She glanced toward the living room, but didn't step through. Instead, she went quietly and sat at the edge of the kitchen chair, listening without meaning to.

They probably hadn't noticed she was downstairs. Or maybe they had and didn't say anything.

From the kitchen, she heard her name. Just faintly, it wasn't the first time.She'd lost count, honestly. The times she'd overheard them talking about her like a problem to be solved. A list of symptoms to be discussed in quiet, rational tones. Like her silence was a project they'd all given up on finishing..........

...... So she'd learned to let it happen. Let them talk. Let it pass. It was easier that way. Not better. Just easier.

In the living room

Danika Encino-Fl Mom

Morning, sweetheart ☺

Malcolm Encino-Fl Dad

Morning, Dani 😘

The living room is calm and softly lit, touched by the early glow of morning. Pale light filters through thin curtains, casting gentle patterns on the floor. A clock ticks faintly in the background. The air carries the distant hum of the city outside, muted by closed Windows.

The couple is sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. Malcolm is reading a newspaper. He flips the pages with slow, deliberate care. Occasionally, he glances up, not to speak, but just to see who's come in. Danika came and sat beside her husband with a cup of coffee.

The room breathes slowly, like it's waiting for the day to begin.