The Ink of Our Souls|ONC2025

After two long, agonizing months of inpatient rehabilitation, the doctors finally released me into Tina's care. That day, Ryan, the physical therapist on duty, wheeled me toward the patient pickup area and rattled off exercises I needed to continue. His voice barely registered. I clutched the bouquet the rehab team had given me, my fingers tightening around the stems as my mind drifted elsewhere.

Then, the wheelchair jerked to a sudden stop. The vase wobbled precariously in my hands, and I barely managed to steady it before it crashed. My heart stuttered, my head snapping up.

Tina was screaming.

Paul stood a few feet away, flanked by Katherine and Robert. My ex-fiancé's posture was rigid, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"You've been hiding her for two months! I have a right to see her! So do her parents!" Paul's voice vibrated with fury.

"I haven't been hiding anyone," Tina shot back. "She didn't want to see you. She had your visitation rights blocked. Not me."

"I can't believe RiRi would block her own parents..."

"I did." My voice, though quiet, sliced through the argument. I adjusted the bouquet in my lap, feeling absurdly small in the wheelchair.

My mother's face crumpled. Robert, ever the dutiful husband, merely tightened his grip on her hand. His dark eyes locked onto mine, filled with something close to disappointment.

"Why?" Katherine whispered, her voice trembling. "Why wouldn't you let us in?"

I inhaled, steadying myself. "Because I wanted to heal without being made to feel guilty."

Sensing the shift in my tone, Ryan took my cue and started maneuvering me toward Tina's car.

"Ari, why would you think we would make you feel guilty?" My mother's eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Because you're doing it right now, Katherine," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, thick with the weight of everything left unspoken. Hurt coiled in my chest, sharp and relentless, but I refused to look away. Let her see it. Let her feel it.

I was no longer the girl who bowed to her mother's expectations, bit her tongue, and accepted the role of the lesser daughter. I had lived in a world where I was valued and had learned what it meant to truly matter. I knew better now.

My mother had chosen Julie over me. Fine. She could have her.

I had Tina. I had memories of a life where I was genuinely loved, and that was enough.

Ryan handed the vase to Tina and helped me into the car. My muscles protested, weaker than I wanted them to be, but I had been warned—three months of stillness would take time to undo. For now, I would live with Tina and her family and rebuild myself piece by piece.

Before Ryan could shut the door, Paul stepped in, gripping the frame as if holding on to something vital. His breath was uneven, and his eyes were wild.

"RiRi, you have to talk to me, " his voice cracked. "You have to let me explain."

I stared at him, at the man I had once loved with every ounce of my being. The man I had envisioned a future with.

"I don't have to do anything," I said, my tone devoid of fire. "You are no longer part of my life. I don't owe you anything."

Paul flinched, but he didn't move. "We've been in love for years, I made one mistake—"

I let out a bitter, breathless laugh. "If we were in love, you wouldn't have slept with my sister."

His face twisted, his mouth opening—whether to plead, to argue, I didn't care.