The alarm went off at 5:30 am, as it always did, a shrill, insistent sound that had become the rhythm of my life. But this morning, for the first time in a long time, I didn't get up. I just lay there, listening to the rain lashing against the window, the sound a soothing, gentle counterpoint to the chaos that had been my life for the past few months.
Emma was still asleep beside me, her breathing a soft, steady rhythm that was a comfort and a joy. I looked at her, at the way her red hair fell across her face, at the small, contented smile that played on her lips, and I felt a profound sense of a quiet, unassuming gratitude. We had been through so much, she and I.
