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Or, how long would it take someone to find me?
Answer: Forever. They have to know you're missing first.
Through sunlight and shadow. Through indoors and out. I was given a shirt to wear, something so short it was all but useless with every step.
I suppose that was the point.
Cole St. Martin had warned me of his proclivities. He had borne them out on my skin the first time we met. He had corrected me repeatedly but in the end, had released me to try and make my way in the world, to beat my addiction while returning to my hometown, my theoretical fiancé, my job. To return to all the stressors that led me to use in the first place.
And allow me the time and space to prove to myself I couldn't do it alone.
I took a misstep, nearly falling as I hesitated between one step and the next.
I had awakened without the addiction chewing at me.
Holy wow.
