I packed up my briefcase, shut down my computer, and said my goodbyes. My colleagues responded with the same tired smiles and vacant pleasantries they always did. They were like clockwork toys, wound up and set on their paths at the beginning of the day, now slowly running down. I was one of them.

  The bus ride home was a mirror image of the morning commute. The same muted colors, the same hushed sounds, the same sea of unfamiliar faces. A watercolor of grays and blues, the buildings blurring into indistinct shapes. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, my mind a fog of unformed questions.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder, the warmth startling me out of my thoughts. I turned, expecting to see Vivian's smile, but the bus was empty, the seat next to me as empty as it had been before.

  It's just your imagination, I told myself. I'm just tired.

  The bus lurched to a stop. I got off the bus and started down the street toward home. It was twilight now, the sky a wash of lavender and scarlet, the air cool and tinged with the scent of rain.

  The night grew darker as I made my way home, the glow of the streetlights casting long, eerie shadows. As I approached the front door, I saw a pale shape move through the dark, furtive and quick. It darted down the alleyway beside the house, the faint sound of claws scraping against pavement.

  “Raccoons,” I told myself. “Just raccoons.”

  I shook my head, a dull ache pulsing behind my eyes. I was just tired. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow, the proposal would go as planned.

  I opened the front door, the familiar scent of citrus and lavender greeting me. I was greeted by the soft glow of the lamp in the living room, casting a warm, golden glow on the hardwood floors. The answering machine was blinking. I pressed the play button, Vivian's voice filling the room.

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  "Hi, baby. I just wanted to call and see how your day went. Give me a call when you get this. Love you."

  I stared at the answering machine for a moment, the words echoing in my mind. Love you. Love you. Love you.

  I reached for the phone. The dial tone was loud and harsh in the quiet of the house. I punched in the number, the sound of the line ringing a familiar, almost comforting sound.

  "Hello?" Vivian's voice was warm, a smile clear in her tone.

  "Hey," I said, my voice shaking with some unknown emotion. Fear. Exhaustion. Relief. I wasn't sure. "I... just got your message."

  "Are you okay?" she asked, concern lacing her words.

  "Yeah," I replied, "I'm okay. I just... I need to see you."

  The words came out in a rush, a confession that couldn't be taken back. Vivian didn't respond at first. The silence stretched between us, heavy and fraught. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, the steady confidence I was so used to replaced by a brittle edge.

  "Connor , I'm in the middle of a shoot. I'll be home as soon as I can, I promise."

  "It's important," I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

  Vivian sighed, a static hiss over the line. "We'll talk about it when I get home. Just... try to relax. Everything's fine."

  I wanted to tell her the truth, about the feeling of déjà vu, the odd sense that everything was familiar and wrong at the same time. The questions that wouldn't let me sleep.

  "Okay," I said finally, the words feeling empty.

  The line clicked, the dull, hum of static cutting off abruptly. I held the phone in my hand, the dial tone echoing in my ears.

  Love you.

  I hung up, the words a bitter echo in my mind.

  I went upstairs to the bedroom, the exhaustion finally catching up to me. I could feel my body sag under the weight of the day. Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow, everything would be better.

  As I lay in bed, the soft glow of the streetlights streaming through my thoughts, I was struck by the overwhelming sensation that I had laid in this same position, had been at this same precipice of change. Tomorrow, I would get up, I would leave, and the same hours would repeat.

  And before I could stop them, the tears began to fall. Not for any reason I could name, but for the simple, crushing weight of a feeling I couldn't escape.

  I fell into a restless sleep.