Rowan eventually moved into her own place. She started therapy. Took a solo trip to Colorado. And one night, over coffee in my kitchen, she said, “I don’t know what’s next, but at least I know who I am again.”
I smiled.
“You always did,” I said. “You just forgot for a little while.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I believed we were going to be okay.
She reached across the table
and squeezed my hand.
If this happened to you, what would you do? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the Facebook comments.
