CHAPTER 138: Make a Wish

　　Six months. It was a lifetime ago that I'd stood in that New York airport, a tear-streaked mess, a day after walking out of Alexander's hospital room. Moving back to New Jersey felt like a prison sentence then, a punishment for my choices. But now, sitting in the familiar living room of my childhood home, the sting of regret had dulled to a dull ache.

　　I'd spent the first two months holed up in my room, a prisoner of my own despair. The world outside seemed to move on at an accelerated pace, leaving me stranded in a stagnant pool of self-pity. Food was a chore, sleep a fleeting respite from the relentless onslaught of memories. But slowly, with the gentle prodding of Julia, my best friend, who visited almost weekly, I'd stopped rotting in bed and started to slowly move on with life.