Page 34 of Shattered Obsession

I bury my face in his chest, whispering against his warm skin, “That was better.”

Better isn’t the final destination.

Better is the first victory.

It’s proof that my body isn’t broken beyond repair, that it can learn new associations.

That maybe, someday, I won’t have to fight to stay present.

The words hang here like fragile glass. ‘Better.’ Such a small word, but it feels monumental. His answering smile is soft, almost reverent, and something inside me loosens, a knot I didn’t realize I’d been living around. My body hums with something unfamiliar, contentment instead of collapse. The stillness feels earned, a reward rather than a void. I never knew peace could be so loud inside my chest.

He dips his head to kiss my hair, his arms encircling me with an unyielding sense of security.

“It’ll keep getting better. One step at a time.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

-Thalia-

The office feels different this time. Instead of the familiar sense of entrapment, it has transformed into a sanctuary where I can finally set down the burdens I’ve been carrying. As I step inside, a familiar ache settles in my chest, a reminder of the challenges I’ve faced, but it’s no longer suffocating.

My therapist greets me with a gentle, knowing smile as I take my seat in the worn chair across from her, the fabric comforting against my skin.

“How have things been since we last spoke?” she prompts, her tone soft and encouraging. I grasp the tissue box tightly in my hands, not out of necessity but for the solace it provides.

“Better,” I manage to reply, though the tremor in my voice betrays the uncertainty I still feel. “We tried again.”

Her brows arch, signaling her understanding rather than surprise, as if she’s been anticipating this moment. “How did that feel?”

I exhale slowly, a shaky breath escaping my lips. “Different,” I admit, feeling a rush of emotion flood through me. “I still panicked a little, though. It’s like every touch comes wrapped in… shadows. Memories that linger beneath the surface.” I pause, my heart racing at the vulnerability of sharing this. “But this time I was able to breathe through it. I didn’t completely break down. And Xander—” My voice wavers, a lump forming in my throat, but I press on. “He stopped as soon as he sensed me freeze. He respected my space, waited until I was ready again. It’s not perfect, but it felt… better. I wasn’t just surviving; I was present, and I felt okay.”

I brace for judgment that never comes. The therapist nods knowingly, her expression one of encouragement. Maybe she always knew I’d get here. Maybe she believed it long before I did.

“That’s progress, Thalia. Significant progress.”

Progress feels dangerous. Each step forward threatens to undo me because it means I’m leaving the version of myself who survived. What if healing erases her? What if I forget the rules that kept me alive? The thought brings tears to my eyes, and I find a small smile escaping despite the emotional turmoil.

“It felt like a win, even if it was tiny.”

Every small victory feels like a stitch closing a wound.

The scars on my soul may never fade, but scars aren’t signs of damage. They’re signs of repair.

“Remember, there’s no such thing as tiny when it comes to healing. Every step is a lesson for your body, teaching it that it’s safe now. That intimacy can be beautiful rather than a threat.”

My fingers twist around the tissue, my nerves surfacing once more. The shadows of doubt creep back in. “But what if the panic never really goes away? What if I never feel normal again?”

“Normal isn’t about returning to who you were before. It’s about learning to coexist with your experiences without letting them control your life.”

I’ve spent months chasing a ghost of the girl I used to be, laughing too loudly, trusting too easily. Maybe she’s gone for good. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe becoming someone new isn’t loss but evolution.

The words echo in my mind. Coexist. Not erase. Not conquer.

“Healing isn’t a finish line; it’s the promise to keep walking even when your legs shake. It’s about finding safety and joy in new ways, on your own terms. And remember, healing isn’t a straight path. Some days you’ll feel like you’re making progress, and other days may feel like setbacks. But having a partner who listens and respects your pace is invaluable, and from what you’ve shared, Xander is doing just that.” ”

A warm lump forms in my throat, but unlike before, it’s a comforting sensation.

“Yeah,” I whisper, my heart swelling with gratitude. “He really is.”