The days that followed were a blur of grief and routine. I forced myself out of bed for the children’s sake. I cooked meals, helped with homework, and took the twins for morning walks in their stroller. At first, every step felt heavy. But slowly, I began reclaiming pieces of myself.
I ate better—not to win him back, but to nourish my body. I started exercising gently, not to please him, but to feel strong again. Each small act reminded me that I was more than the woman he left behind.
Karma Comes Calling
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