The last few days had been a quiet kind of heaven.
Peace, something I hadn't realized I had been starving for until it finally wrapped itself around me like a long-lost friend.
Mornings were no longer filled with tension, no longer heavy with the weight of his presence, his cutting words, his watchful eyes dissecting every breath I took. Instead, I could wake up, stretch my limbs across the bed without worrying if I had invaded "his" side. I could breathe without wondering if he'd accuse me of breathing too loudly.
I could meditate again. I hadn't done that in months, not since my life had been swallowed whole by a man who claimed me without ever asking who I really was. Sitting cross-legged on the rug by the window, sunlight spilling over my face, I closed my eyes and let the silence sink into me. My thoughts no longer screamed, they whispered. My chest no longer felt like a battlefield.
