It was both the longest and shortest two weeks of my life.
With my father’s death, and the doubt and confusion I felt over Grim, there were moments when I didn’t even realize how quickly time had passed.
But then there were nights, like when I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to rise, feeling Grim reach for me even in his sleep, when time felt especially slow.
Painfully, achingly slow.
I’ve never been good at managing my emotions. Even when I lost everything, when the injury destroyed my dreams, I didn’t fully process everything. I went on autopilot, breathing and moving and working without actually seeing and living.
And I do the same now, except this time I hurt Grim too.
Seeing him with another woman… when I didn’t know what we were.
My father warning
