“You hate mornings.”
“I hate them less now.”
“Concerning.”
“The feeling when a distance that once seemed impossible becomes ordinary.”
“That sounds like yours.”
I touched the silver watch.
“What if I only continued because I loved her?”
“Then you still did the miles.”
“What if stopping proves she was the reason?”
“Why does a reason have to become ownership?”
Tessa shrugged.
“People help us start things. That does not mean they own the outcome.”
Unfairly wise.
“Did you read that somewhere?”
“No. Pediatric nursing. Children begin everything because someone else tells them to. Eventually they decide what to keep.”
The plan still said twenty miles. The last major long run. Miguel had arranged support stations. Rose would remain medically neutral. Dani would not be there. The absence felt enormous.
“That is the point,” Tessa said.
I raised my head.
“What?”
“You’re imagining the twenty without her.”
“I did not say that.”
“Your face did.”
“I have one face.”
“You stole that from Dani.”
The name landed. Tessa saw.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
I closed the workbook.
“I cannot keep avoiding her name.”
“Probably not.”
