My throat tightened.
“I
appreciate that.”
“You don’t need to prove anything by pretending you’re fine.”
That nearly undid me.
For weeks, people had told me to be strong.
To think positively.
To forgive Dominic.
To remember that life continued.
Charlotte was the first person who simply acknowledged that I was not fine.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She nodded.
“We’ll take it one day at a time.”
My new office overlooked the city.
On the desk sat a small welcome arrangement of white flowers.
Beside it was a blank notebook.
I opened the notebook and wrote one sentence.
Build a life Sophie would have been proud of.
It became my private promise.
I would never stop missing her.
But I could refuse to disappear with her.
For the next several weeks, I worked, attended grief counseling, and returned each evening to my quiet apartment.
Some days were manageable.
