The breakup shattered me in ways I didn’t know were possible.
I stopped going to our favorite coffee shop because everything reminded me of him.
I deleted all our photos.
I threw myself into work and tried to convince myself I was fine.
My best friend Maya kept me updated on Ben’s life, even when I told her I didn’t want to know.
“His parents set him up with a girl named Mia,” she said one day over lunch. “She’s exactly what they wanted. Slim, from a good family, works in fashion.”
I forced a smile. “Good for him.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No,” I admitted. “But what else can I say?”
Months passed.
I started therapy.
I started believing maybe I could be happy without Ben.
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