Rachel exhaled deeply as she looked around her room. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the bedside lamp she hadn't bothered to turn off earlier. Everything felt too still, like the world was holding its breath with her.
She leaned her back against the door for a moment, pressing her palm to her chest as if that might steady the ache there. Her heart felt bruised. Not broken in a sharp way anymore, but sore, tender, like something that had finally stopped bleeding but hadn't healed yet.
"I'm okay," she whispered to herself, the words barely louder than air. Saying it out loud felt necessary. Like a promise she needed to hear in her own voice.
She crossed the room slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. The sheets were cool beneath her fingers. It felt familiar and safe. She slipped out of her shoes and lay back, staring up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly when her eyes began to sting again.
