Chapter 11: The Rebuilding
I spent the next few months rebuilding.
Not just my life.
Me.
The person I'd been before Andrew. Before the abuse. Before the fear.
I started small.
Bought a new apartment. Bought new clothes. Started going for walks in the park.
Rosa came with me everywhere.
Brenda called every other day.
My mother sent me cookies.
My father sent me passive-aggressive texts about contracts.
It was nice.
Weird.
But nice.
"I can't believe I used to think that was love," I told Rosa one morning. "I can't believe I used to stay."
"You wanted to believe he could change."
"I think I wanted to believe I was worth changing for."
"And now?"
I thought about it.
"I don't think I need to believe that anymore. I don't need anyone to change for me. I just need to be okay with who I am."
"And who's that?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted. "But I'm excited to find out."
Rosa smiled.
"That's the best thing I've heard you say in years."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. It's the first time you've sounded like you actually believe it."
I looked out the window.
The city stretched beneath me.
It was bright.
May you like
It was alive.
And for the first time, I felt like I was part of it.
