10. I’m Your Fan! Michelle I wake up at the usual time. It’s still dark outside, but this long-standing habit is hard to break. Last night, before going to sleep, I thought about how much I needed to get back to activities I used to enjoy and had set aside over time. Sleeping wasn’t easy either; my body still hasn’t adjusted to this new bed, this new space. But if there’s one thing that’s clear, it’s that I need to get back to my routine. I’ve always been sporty, and giving up physical activity has taken its toll. However, I’m still young. I can get back my pace, my energy, my shape. For now, before finding a good gym, I decided to start with the simplest thing: going for a run. I put on sportswear, laced up my sneakers tightly, and with one last look at the apartment, I closed the door behind me. If today marks the start of my fitness life, then there are no shortcuts: I head down the stairs. Upon reaching the ground floor, the sound of crickets still fills the air. The cool breeze brushes my face as I take deep breaths. In front of the building, there’s a small park and, to my surprise, there are already several people running. I’m not the only one up early. Well, it’s time. I start at a leisurely pace, walking lightly along the path. After a few minutes, my body feels ready for more, and I begin to jog. As I move forward, some runners greet me kindly. I smile. Now I’m aware that I have new neighbors. Gradually, I increase the speed, letting my body settle into the rhythm. My legs, as if remembering every past training, respond with surprising lightness. A few years ago, running several kilometers was a daily routine for me. Today, I’m not aiming for that. Not yet. Today I just want to start. And so, with each stride, I feel like I’m regaining a part of myself. The cool air fills my lungs, and with each breath, I feel my body waking up a bit more. The streets are still dim, but the sky begins to turn a lighter blue, signaling the break of dawn. The sound of my footsteps on the pavement blends with the distant murmur of the city waking up. A memory crosses my mind: the competitions I used to participate in, the rush of speed, the feeling of freedom as I ran without a care. I close my eyes for a second and allow myself to feel it. That feeling is still inside me. Maybe it never really left. As I move forward, my breathing steadies, my pace becomes more consistent. I realize it’s not just about exercising; it’s about reclaiming a part of myself that had been on pause. Running isn’t just a healthy habit; it’s a connection to my essence, to my strength. When my legs begin to feel heavy, I decide to slow down. I don’t want to overdo it on the first day. I stop for a moment, hands on my waist, watching the horizon light up with golden hues. A new day begins, and with it, a new version of myself. I smile. Today was just the first step, but I know there will be many more. ***** The endorphins do their job, and a wave of joy runs through my body. I set the coffee maker going and headed to the bathroom. Today is my first day of work, and I’m filled with excitement. I still can’t believe how much my life has changed in just a couple of days. I guess that’s how drastic changes are—unexpected, dizzying, inevitable. Under the hot shower, I carefully wash my hair, letting the foam slide away along with my thoughts. The water carries away the fatigue and the last traces of uncertainty. As I step out, I wrap myself in a towel and stand in front of the wardrobe. Today, I want to wear the clothes I bought, as a ritual, a sign of good luck for this new beginning. My fine, light hair dries quickly. I decided to leave it natural, without straightening it, letting it flow freely, just as I’m learning to do. I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a steaming cup of coffee. I sit down at the table and take a sip, savoring the comforting aroma. Suddenly, my phone rings. Seeing my mother’s name on the screen, I smiled and accepted the video call. “Good morning, Mom,” I greet warmly. She returns a warm smile. “Daughter… how did you sleep last night?”she asked with that concern that never leaves her. Despite the years, she remains the mom who worries, who watches over me regardless of the distance. “Not too well, Mom. I guess it’s the nerves of the first day, but I’ll get used to it soon,” I reply, trying to reassure her. As expected, she starts an endless list of recommendations, instructions I already know by heart, but which still comfort me. Her voice, though insistent, envelops me in an affection that transcends words. “Alright, Mom. I’ll keep all your suggestions in mind, I assure her, before bringing up the topic that really worries me. By the way, if Ryan asks about me, please don’t tell him anything. “Actually, we don’t exactly know where you are,” she admits, but I’m worried about Candace. I feel a lump in my throat. No matter how hard I try to avoid it, the pain reaches me. I also think of my daughter, her curious gaze, her crystalline laughter. But I know she’ll be fine. Her father loves and cares for her, and he would never let anything happen to her. “As soon as the divorce proceedings begin, I’ll talk to her and explain everything,” I promise, though just thinking about it hurts. Now I have to go. We say goodbye and end the call. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I head to the bedroom, put on my shoes, and spray a bit of perfume on my skin. Today I’ve opted for light makeup: a bit of powder to avoid shine, mascara to highlight my eyes, and a touch of gloss on my lips. My skin still looks fresh, and simplicity makes me feel at ease. I grab my bag, check that I have everything, and hurry out. The day begins, and with it, a new chapter in my life. ***** When I arrive at the store, I pause for a moment at the entrance. My heart beats strongly, aware of how important this moment is. After so many years, I’m finally going to put into practice everything I’ve learned. However, a slight insecurity overwhelms me. I just hope not to disappoint Dylan. A sudden sound snaps me out of my thoughts. A deep voice resonates behind me, making me jump slightly. “I wish you lots of success, Michez.” I turned around immediately and saw him. His presence is commanding, and his intense gaze takes my breath away for a moment. He is an attractive man, and I can’t help but blush slightly as I notice how he looks at me. “You look really beautiful,” he adds with a smile that disarms any attempt at pretense on my part. I take a breath and return his smile, aware that the least I can do is thank him. “Thank you for the opportunity, Dylan. This means a lot to me.” He nods calmly and, with a slight tilt of his head, indicates the way to the entrance. I walk with firm steps, trying to contain the mix of excitement and nervousness that overwhelms me. When we reach the elevator, we enter together. Although we share the same space, I know our destinations within the building are different; we work on different floors. “This is where I get off,” I say as I see that I will soon have to get off. “I need to swing by Human Resources to grab my badge.” Dylan nods, as if he already knew. However, his next sentence takes me by surprise. “I know. I was thinking… could I invite you to lunch?” I pause for a moment. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to sound rude, but I also can’t ignore what this might mean. “Mmm… maybe it’s not a good idea,” I murmur cautiously. People might misinterpret it. Dylan lowers his gaze for a moment, as if reflecting on my words. Finally, he nods with a slight smile. “Maybe dinner outside here?” I hesitate. I don’t want to be discourteous, but I’m also not sure how to handle this situation. Before I can respond, he lets out a light laugh. “Haha, no worries, I get it. There’ll be other chances.” I smile, feeling both relieved and grateful. Just then, the elevator stops at my floor. Without thinking too much, I stepped out quickly. “See you later,” I say goodbye quickly before the doors close behind me. I feel his gaze on me even after the elevator resumes its ascent. I sigh, trying to focus on what really matters: my first day. This is just the beginning. ***** The day passes lightly. My coworkers are very patient with me, although, to be honest, I’m not that bad at what I do. Despite not having worked formally before, my experience in the school’s parent association allowed me to develop valuable skills. I organized events, managed funds, and led fundraising campaigns, which, I must admit, is no easy task. Gaining support within a school community can be exhausting, but I learned to navigate that world. Around noon, the office starts to empty out. Most of my colleagues leave for lunch, but I decide to wait a bit at my desk. My chat with Dylan has left me a bit unsettled. Maybe he was just trying to be nice and I, in my insecurity, treated him like a stalker. I’m uncomfortable with the possibility that I overreacted, so after a few minutes of indecision, I look at the time on my computer screen and make a decision. I don’t think anyone is in his office at this hour, but I heard one of the guys say that Dylan doesn’t usually go out for lunch. I take a deep breath, grab my phone, and gather the courage to head up. As I imagined, the place is almost deserted. However, the light in the president’s office is still on. I walk decisively and knock on the door. To my surprise, it’s not Dylan who opens it, but a small girl, about seven or eight years old, a bit younger than my daughter. Her big curious eyes scan me with a serious look, and without hesitation, she asks me an unexpected question. “What did you bring me?” I blinked, puzzled, and gestured with my hands to indicate that I hadn’t brought anything. Her expression becomes even more critical. “Wow, you’re the worst of the bunch,” she crosses her arms. At least the others usually bring me toys or delicious food. I don’t understand what she’s talking about until she explains it herself. “You’re pretty, but not as pretty as my mommy was. If you want a chance with my dad, you’ll have to try harder.” It takes me a moment to process her words. Slowly, the pieces fall into place, and I decide to ask her directly. “Is your father Dylan?” She nods, watching me with curiosity. “Well, I think you’re mistaken. I’m not interested in your dad. I’m just Michelle, and I work here.” Her expression changes instantly. Her eyes widen, and suddenly her voice turns excited. “Are you Michez?” I burst out laughing at how she pronounces my nickname, just like her uncle does. “I suppose so,” I say with a laugh. To my surprise, the girl takes my hand enthusiastically and leads me into the office. “I’m a big fan! My uncle always shows me your videos from when you skated with him.” Before I can respond, the office door opens again, and Dylan enters with a bag of food in hand. “I didn’t know you’d come, but I brought enough,” he says with a kind smile. “Would you like to join us?” The little girl clasps her hands together and looks at me, hopefully. “I’d love to,” I reply without hesitation. Dylan and his daughter smiled as they watched me. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Stop Loving
Stop Loving
