A week passed in a blur of beautiful, unremarkable days. The house began to shed its old, sterile skin, replaced by the scent of fresh pine cleaners, Liam’s damp work boots by the door, and the quiet rhythm of a life uninterrupted. I was sleeping through the night. I was eating. I was actually beginning to believe that the world wasn't a minefield.
On Tuesday morning, the air was crisp, the humidity taking a rare break. I stood in the foyer, stretching my calves against the baseboard, wearing a pair of running leggings and an old tank top. I had missed running. I used to run three miles every morning before work. It was the only time my mind truly turned off. Before I ever met Jason and he had turned my life into a calculated prison of schedules and restrictions.
I grabbed my headphones
