of yourself?”
I laughed softly.
“I try.”
“You’re allowed to enjoy your life, Lauren.”
My smile faded.
She continued.
“Grief can make happiness feel disloyal.”
I stared into my coffee.
That was exactly how I felt.
Whenever I laughed, I remembered Sophie.
Whenever I enjoyed a meal, I wondered whether I deserved it.
Whenever I woke from a peaceful night’s sleep, guilt followed.
Charlotte leaned forward.
“Loving your daughter doesn’t require you to spend the rest of your life refusing joy.”
My eyes filled.
I thought about that conversation for weeks.
Eventually, I began doing small things simply because they made me happy.
I took weekend walks beside the lake.
I joined a book club.
I bought flowers for my apartment.
I started painting again, something I’d loved in college.
