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it.
     
    Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy to forget as I’d hoped it would be. Jackson had been great, he’d given me space to heal physically and emotionally. He didn’t push me about our relationship or where we were going. I still hadn’t asked what happened to Brett. I didn’t think I wanted to know. Someday I’d ask him, but for now I wanted to move on.
     
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
     
    I went back to work at the shelter once my bruises healed. I was even more determined than before to help women who were in, or had been in, abusive relationships. I talked a few times to the therapist that worked there. I’m not sure how much talking had helped, but I knew it would be a slow process. Things wouldn’t just immediately snap back into place. I wasn’t the same person I was before the incident with Brett. I wasn’t ever going to be that person again.
     
    I knew that I’d lost that spark and fire I’d had during the trial. I suppose you could say that I was depressed. Everything seemed so dark and serious. Maybe I would never live in that happy care free world again now that I knew what was really out there and what people were capable of doing to each other.
     
    The sadness permeated my world, painting everything in dark shades of gray. I felt like I couldn’t see the world in color anymore. The laughter of children sounded shrill to my ears and the conversations of passersby were all trite. I felt like Ebenezer Scrooge. Bah humbug.
     
    I had a date with Jackson later and I couldn’t seem to work up any excitement for it. Maybe I just needed to end things with him. I’d been thinking a lot over the past few days and this one thought kept popping up. He deserved better than to be with a zombie. He needed someone that would be there for him, that could appreciate him. I was too tired to do anything but go through the motions.
     
    I’ll end it. I decided. I knew that he wouldn’t let go of me without a fight, but I was determined to have my way. I deserved to be alone. I couldn’t bring him down with me. Tonight, I’d let him go, and tomorrow everything would be better. I wouldn’t have the pressure of trying to make him happy or pretend to be happy myself. I wouldn’t have to fake the desire to go out, or to even eat. I never wanted to eat these days.
     
    Without Jackson I could do what I really wanted. I could sit on the couch in my new place and wear the ugliest pajamas I owned. I could drink a bottle of wine and wallow in my misery while watching re-runs. I just needed time to myself. Then I’d be able to find something to be happy about again.
     
    I hoped so, at least.

 
     
     
    Chapter Fourteen
     
     
     

It’s a hard thing, learning to love yourself again. I’d been through hell and back over the last year and I was still struggling under the weight I carried daily. I had so much baggage I could open a luggage store. Healing and peace seemed like an impossible goal. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only endless inky darkness.
     
    I was so pissed at everything. I was mad at Brett for nearly killing me. Some days I wanted to slowly torture him, assuming he was still alive. I didn’t actually know what Jackson did with him. Some days I was consumed with the lack of knowledge and some days I never gave him a thought.
     
    I was pissed at Jackson for letting go so easily. I’d expected him to put up a fight or something but when I told him of my decision he’d just looked at me as if reading my mind, and then he walked away. I hadn’t heard from him in 6 months. My heart was broken. There was a hole in my life and in my being. I hadn’t realized how much he meant to me, and how much I needed him until I told him to get lost. I hated that it was necessary but I couldn’t keep hurting him and asking him to forgive me for being a shell of my former self.
     
    I was pissed at myself most of all. How had I let my life turn into this mess? How had I gone from a normal