Her shoulders slowly drop, tension easing out of her frame in small increments. I watch her breathing even out, watch the fight inside her quiet just a little.
“I thought it would feel wrong,” she admits. “Or scary.”
“And does it?” I ask gently.
She shakes her head. “It feels familiar, but not in a bad way.”
Relief floods my chest so hard, it almost knocks the air from my lungs.
Her eyes shine as she looks at me. “You are my safe,” she whispers. “You always were.”
That right there feels like redemption.
She leans forward then, slowly, resting her forehead against my shoulder. Just the weight of her. Just the warmth.
I don’t wrap my arms around her until she nods, barely perceptible, against my chest.
When I do, it’s careful, protective. Like I’m holding something fragile and priceless.
Outside, the rain keeps falling.
Inside, for the first time in a long time, I feel like we’re healing.
EDEN
The waiting room smells the same. Lavender. Clean. Too calm.
I didn’t realise how much that would get under my skin until I’m sitting here again, hands folded over my bump, staring at the neutral artwork on the walls.
Six months.
That’s how long it’s been since I finished therapy. Since I told myself I was okay. Since I stopped coming here every week with my chest tight and my thoughts tangled.
This is just a check-in, I remind myself. Not a step backwards, just maintenance.
“Eden?”
I look up to see Anna standing in the doorway, the same soft smile, the same calm eyes that once felt like a lifeline.
“Hi,” I say, pushing myself to my feet.
Inside her office, everything is exactly where I remember it. Same chairs. Same box of tissues within reach. Same quiet that makes you feel safe enough to tell the truth.
“You look fantastic. How long do you have left?”
“A few weeks,” I say with a small smile.
“So,” she says once we’re seated, “what made you come back?”
I exhale slowly. “I think I just wanted to talk. About where I am now.” I hesitate. “And whether that’s normal.”
She nods, waiting.
“There’s been a lot of change,” I continue. “Good change. My ex, Kade, he’s been around more. Not in a pushy way.”
“How does that make you feel?”
I frown, searching for the right word. “Conflicted,” I admit.
