Chapter 78 This Isn't You

• In the hushed stillness of Meera’s apartment, the only sound breaking the silence is the distant hum of traffic outside. Ric's arms are wrapped around me, his warmth seeping into my skin like a lifeline, keeping me alive. His thumb traces slow, gentle circles on my cheek, a rhythm that's become a familiar comfort. It's been three long weeks since the attack—three weeks since my world shattered, leaving me to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of what's left.
• Every night here has been a battle against nightmares that claw their way into my dreams. But every time I wake up, gasping and terrified, Ric is there. His arms are always ready, pulling me close in a protective embrace that feels like a shield against the darkness. He whispers reassurances, reminding me that the attacker is gone, locked away where he can't hurt me anymore. It's a mantra that helps me find my way back to a fragile sense of safety, even if it's just for a moment.
• The IV drip is gone now, but the wound on my head still throbs, reminding me that I’m not whole. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. Every time I try to convince myself it’s over, that I survived, another memory claws its way back and pulls me under. The fear. The helplessness. The betrayal. It’s all still there, lurking just beneath the surface.