Page 43 of Shattered Obsession

I save the memo.

Not because I need it.

Because I deserve to remember this.

I look out the window, watching sunlight pour over the street below, and realize the world hasn’t changed. I have. For the first time in so long, my body doesn’t feel like a battlefield; it feels like mine, anchored in happiness and relief.

As I settle into my therapist’s office, I find myself searching for the right words, unsure of where to begin. For such a long time, my sessions have been a cycle of pain, panic, anguish, and panic again. But today? Today is different.

She tilts her head, her gaze steady and patient as always. “How have things been since we last spoke?” Her question feels almost surreal, and a surprisingly shaky laugh escapes my lips.

“Good. Really good.”

“Tell me about that,” she encourages gently, her voice soothing.

“Xander and I… We went all the way. For the first time since…” My throat constricts, a familiar knot forming, but I refuse to back down. “Since the assault.” Her face remains a mask of calm understanding, not flinching in surprise or pity.

“How did it feel?” she asks slowly.

Tears well up in my eyes as I blink furiously against them. “Like I got something back. Like I wasn’t broken anymore.” I take a deep breath, summoning my courage. “I was nervous, and there were still flashes of fear, but he was so careful. And I chose it. That’s what made it different. This time, it was mine.”

Her smile radiates warmth and sincerity. “That’s an extraordinary step, Thalia. Not just because of the physical act, but because of what it represents. You’ve reclaimed control, trust, and intimacy on your own terms.”

Her words resonate through me, sinking deep into my core. I press the tissue to my eyes, laughter mingling with tears, a testament to my newfound hope. “It feels like hope.” Hope used to feel dangerous, like a promise the world would snatch away before I could hold it. But now it feels sturdy, something I’ve built myself, brick by brick, breath by breath. I know there will still be days when fear returns, when silence feels sharp again. But I also know how to find my way back. And that’s enough.

She nods, her expression encouraging. “You deserve to feel that.” I wholeheartedly believe her, a flicker of confidence igniting within me.

In the elevator on the way out of the building, I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall.

My hair is messy.

My cheeks are flushed.

But there’s something different about my eyes.

Light.

Hopeful.

I press my palm to the cool metal rail and exhale slowly.

My body was once a crime scene.

My mind was once a battleground.

But now?

Now it feels like a home I am slowly redecorating.

And maybe healing isn’t about forgetting the darkness.

Maybe it’s about learning to open the curtains.

Letting the light in.

Letting myself in.

For the first time, I believe the future might not hurt.