The Fortress at the Graveside
I scrolled social media one night and regretted it instantly.
There they were. Vanessa and Darren. Sunlit. Smiling. Cabo beaches. A new ring flashing on her hand. A caption about soulmates and blessings.
I stared at my phone while rain tapped against the window and something inside me hardened.
At work, I was efficient. Quiet. Invisible.
Until someone noticed.
Ruth from finance stopped me one Friday evening, her eyes kind but direct. She told me I looked like someone carrying too much alone. She bought me a drink. Then another.
When I finally cried, it wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet. Controlled. Years of restraint finding a crack.
She handed me a business card.
“Even warriors need medics,” she said.
