~Zane~
Three weeks. That's how long I'd been going to therapy, hitting the gym twice as hard, and basically rebuilding myself from scratch. All for a girl who looked at me like I was a stranger she was being polite to.
"You don't have to change for me," Valeria had said when I told her about my appointments with Dr. Martinez.
But the way she said it - flat, distant, like she was talking to some random guy instead of me - made it clear she didn't give a damn what I did anymore.
"I want to change for me," I'd replied, which wasn't totally a lie. But mostly it was for her. Everything was for her now.
"Okay," she'd said. Just okay. Not 'I'm proud of you' or 'that's great' or anything that showed she cared even a little bit.
Just okay.
And that's how our conversations went now. Short. Po
