Chapter 35 - The Unbroken Window
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The five-year anniversary of the night Evelyn saved my life passed entirely without ceremony. I didn't host a dinner, I didn't invite friends over, and I didn't spend the day reflecting on the absolute terror of the past.
I simply lived a perfectly normal, gloriously boring Tuesday.
I went to work. I fought with the accounting department over budget allocations. I ate a mediocre salad at my desk. I approved three emergency legal interventions for employees in different states. I drove home, listening to the radio, entirely unburdened by the ghosts of Colin or the ruined legacy of the Daniels family.
When evening fell, I stood by the large, open window in my living room, watching the city lights begin to flicker on against the darkening sky.
My back ached, a low, steady thrum of reality reminding me that I lived in a body that had been broken and rebuilt. I reached back, pressing my hand against the warm, silver scar.
I thought about the letter Colin had sent, currently sitting in tiny, completely illegible shreds in a landfill somewhere. I thought about Ashley, sitting in a cell, completely stripped of her arrogance.
I realized that forgiveness was entirely unnecessary when you have achieved absolute indifference.
I didn't forgive them. I just simply didn't care about them anymore. They were small, pathetic footnotes in the massive, towering history of the empire I had built.
I turned away from the window and walked toward my bedroom. I lay down on the soft sheets, the cool air drifting over my skin.
May you like
No one monitored my breathing. No one withheld my comfort. No one demanded that I justify my need to rest.
The house remained standing. The world continued. And for the first time in my entire life, I closed my eyes in the dark and felt absolutely, undeniably safe.
