Chapter 134: Made With Love

I stand before the mirror again. Same bathroom. Same bottle of pills. Same reflection staring back at me. Only this time, I’m thinking. The other times, I was automatic—obediently swallowing what I was supposed to. Tonight, I watch my face as though it belongs to a stranger. A woman who has loved too hard and lost too often. My thumb presses against the child-proof cap. Click. The sound is very tiny, almost inaudible, yet it goes right through me loudly. I know exactly what I want now. What I’m about to do. But knowing doesn’t always stop you from wanting. I wanted this. God help me, I wanted it. I’m not taking the pills this time. I’m taking the risk. The words repeat themselves in my head until they start to sound like a joke. It’s ridiculous, irresponsible, reckless—but the ache beneath my ribs doesn’t care. Logic has never been able to strangle longing, and right now, longing is winning. This wasn’t about logic anymore. This was about need. The need to be rooted. To be kept. To bel