chapter 3- Healing wounds

The next week passed in a haze for Natalie. She had taken time off from work, partly because she couldn't face the pitying looks from her coworkers and partly because she didn't have the strength to act like everything was fine. The days blurred together, filled with takeout containers, untouched books, and mindless scrolling through streaming platforms.

Her apartment, usually a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. Every corner reminded her of Jason. The framed photos they had taken on vacations were still sitting on the shelves, taunting her with their perfection. She couldn't bring herself to throw them out—at least, not yet.

It wasn't until Emma showed up unannounced one rainy afternoon that Natalie began to crawl out of the emotional hole she had fallen into.

"Natalie!" Emma called, pounding on the door. "I know you're in there. Open up!"

Natalie groaned from the couch, clutching a pillow tightly. The last thing she wanted was company, but Emma wasn't the type to take no for an answer. She reluctantly dragged herself to the door and opened it a crack.

Emma took one look at her and pushed the door open fully. "Oh, Nat," she said, stepping inside and dropping her umbrella. "You look like you've been hit by a truck."

"Thanks for the pep talk," Natalie muttered, shuffling back to the couch.

Emma followed, hands on her hips. "I'm serious. When's the last time you showered? Or ate something that didn't come in a paper bag?"

Natalie buried her face in the pillow. "I don't need a lecture, Emma. I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Emma said, plopping down beside her. "And it's okay not to be fine. You were about to marry the guy, for crying out loud. This kind of thing doesn't just blow over in a week."

Natalie sighed and sat up, brushing her messy hair out of her face. "I know, okay? I know I need to move on. I just… I don't even know where to start."

Emma softened, her usual fiery demeanor giving way to compassion. "Look, you don't have to have it all figured out right now. But sitting here, wallowing in misery, isn't going to help. Let's start small."

"Small how?" Natalie asked, skeptical.

Emma grinned. "Step one: shower. Step two: get dressed. Step three: we're going out."

"Out where?"

"Anywhere that isn't this apartment," Emma said. "A coffee shop, a park, I don't care. You need fresh air and a change of scenery."

Natalie wanted to protest, but deep down, she knew Emma was right. She couldn't keep hiding from the world forever. With a reluctant nod, she dragged herself to the bathroom.

An hour later, Natalie found herself sitting in a cozy corner of a small café, a steaming cup of chai latte in front of her. Emma sat across from her, scrolling through her phone.

"See?" Emma said, gesturing to the drink. "Doesn't this feel better than moping on your couch?"

Natalie took a sip and gave a half-hearted shrug. "I guess."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Baby steps, Nat. Baby steps."

As Natalie gazed out the window, watching the rain drizzle down the glass, she found herself thinking about what Emma had said. Maybe moving on didn't mean she had to have everything figured out right away. Maybe it was okay to take things one day at a time.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Emma's phone buzzed with a notification. Emma glanced at it and grinned.

"What?" Natalie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Emma said, a little too quickly.

Natalie narrowed her eyes. "Emma…"

"Fine," Emma said, holding up her hands in surrender. "There's this new app I've been using. It's for meeting people—totally casual, no pressure."

Natalie groaned. "If you're about to suggest online dating—"

"Relax," Emma said, cutting her off. "I'm not saying you have to jump into anything. But it wouldn't hurt to put yourself out there, you know? Just to talk to someone, even if it's just as friends."

Natalie shook her head. "I'm not ready for that."

"And that's okay," Emma said. "But when you are ready, just think about it. You can't let Jason ruin the idea of love for you."

Natalie didn't respond, but Emma's words lingered in her mind long after they left the café.

That night, back in her apartment, Natalie stood in front of the shelf where the photos of her and Jason still sat. Slowly, she picked them up one by one, her fingers tracing the edges of the frames. It hurt to let go of those memories, but keeping them felt even worse.

With a deep breath, she packed the photos into a box and shoved it into the back of her closet. It wasn't a complete goodbye, but it was a start.

As she crawled into bed, she felt a strange sense of relief. The pain was still there, but for the first time, it didn't feel all-consuming. Emma was right—baby steps.