I wake up on our anniversary.
One year married. Twelve months of being Violet Knight. Of sharing a bed and a life and a last name with someone who actually deserves them.
Liam's already awake, watching me with this soft expression.
"Happy anniversary," he says.
"Happy wedding day," I reply. "Again. For the third time. Or fourth if you count the rehearsal dinner simulation."
"I've lost track of how many times we've gotten married."
"Same." I curl into him. "But I like it. The repetition. The celebrating the same moment from different angles. It feels like we're really living it instead of just passing through it."
"Your therapist is definitely writing that paper."
"She sent me a draft. It's titled 'Retroactive Ritual as Delayed Integration: A Case Study in Non-Linear Trauma Recovery
