I’ve made friends.
I’ve gained confidence…sort of.
And the fear has taken a back seat…sort of.
And yes… absolutely yes… It’s still there. I feel it all the time. I never leave the compound on my own, and even when I’m surrounded by Shadows, there’s always that feeling that I’m being watched.
And not the good kind of watched.
Still, I did it.
I wake up every morning, I leave the compound with Lila and three Shadows, and I open my boutique.
That alone feels like a victory.
I’ve gone on dates. Five of them over the past three months. None ever made it past the first date… but I still went. And that matters.
And I’ve had fun.
The girls and I have gone out dancing at the club. Of course, Bubby and his officers were there…and Eli too. He didn’t dance, though, because he didn’t want to risk his heart rate spiking and then crashing. So instead, the girls and I dancedaroundhim, dragging him into the moment anyway.
Even Skip sat back in his chair and laughed at that.
Oh, Riley, Sunny, Lila, Eli, and I drove all the way to LA just to go shopping. Bubby and Skip came with us, but we mostly ignored them. I needed fabric and jewels, so we turned it into a day trip and made the most of it.
Life feels lighter now.
Since Los Fantasmas’ leader, Cortez, was taken down, something has shifted. I don’t know exactly what Bubby is doing behind the scenes, but every week, another faction of that horrible cartel disappears. There’s almost nothing left of them.
And for the first time in a long time…
I feel free.
Still… sometimes, I miss Tank.
I miss the way he used to look at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I miss the sound of his voice saying my name…even when it ended in rejection. At least then, he talked to me. At least then, I got more than a grunt and a single word in passing.
That thought lingers for half a second too long.
Then I push it away.
Because missing him doesn’t mean going back.
And loving him doesn’t mean choosing him.
I’ve already chosen myself.
And yes, I’ve compared every date to Tank. I probably always will. Maybe I’ll be single for a long time because I haven’t found that same sense of safety and comfort with anyone else the way I did with him.
Maybe I never will…and that’s something I’ll have to learn to accept.
Somewhere out there is a man who will love me with his whole being, and I’ll love him back. It may not feel the same. It may not feel like the kind of safety I once knew. But it will still be real.
And maybe happiness isn’t always about feeling safe.
Maybe sometimes it’s about choosing joy anyway.
And I think that’s an okay thing to risk for a chance at being happy.
