stood beside the sink, trying to steady my breathing.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror.
I looked exhausted.
But for the first time, I wasn’t willing to accept exhaustion as an explanation for everything.
I thought about the previous three rides.
The same routine.
The same unusual sleepiness.
The same missing hours.
And Julian’s repeated insistence that I was simply working too hard.
I realized that I’d been questioning my own judgment while trusting his.
And that trust had made it easier for him to dismiss my concerns.
When I returned to the living room, Julian looked up.
“Feeling better?”
I nodded.
“A little.”
He smiled.
“See? You just need to take care of yourself.”
Then he reached for my hand.
For a moment, I stared at his fingers.
The same hand that had held mine during our wedding ceremony.
The same hand that had once made me
