Chapter 10 - The First Day of the Rest of My Life
Six months after the wedding that never happened, I stood on the balcony of my apartment holding a mug of hot tea in my right hand.
I lifted it slowly, watching the steam curl up into the crisp autumn air. No pain. No catching sensation in the joint. Just clean, functioning bone and muscle doing exactly what I asked them to do.
My phone buzzed on the patio table.
It was an unknown number, but the area code belonged to a resort in Mexico. For a second, my thumb hovered over the screen. Then, calmly, deliberately, I swiped and tapped Decline.
I didn't block the number. Blocking implied anger, a lingering tether of emotion. Declining simply meant I was busy.
A knock sounded at my front door. When I opened it, Caleb was standing there holding two paper cups from the local bakery and a bag of warm croissants, smiling that slow, easy smile that always made me feel like I had finally come home.
"Ready for physical therapy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The torture chamber awaits."
"Only if we get pastries afterward," I said, stepping aside to let him in.
May you like
He walked past me, his shoulder brushing mine—gentle, careful, and completely safe.
For the first time in thirty-four years, I wasn't bracing for impact. I wasn't absorbing anyone else's damage. I was just living my own life, one steady, pain-free movement at a time.
