Patience Heart

A New Kind of Normal

The sun is barely up when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I groggily reach for it, squinting at the screen to see Adam's name flashing across. A part of me wants to ignore it, to curl back under the covers and pretend that the world doesn't exist for a few more minutes. But I know better. Adam has been persistent, and after everything, I can't bring myself to shut him out anymore.

"Morning, Adam," I mumble into the phone, my voice thick with sleep.

"Morning, Viola. I'm outside. Ready when you are."

I glance at the clock—6:30 AM, right on schedule. For the past few weeks, Adam has been picking me up every morning. At first, I resisted. I wasn't used to having someone cater to me like this. I had always been independent, driving myself to work, handling my own business. But Adam wouldn't take no for an answer. He wanted to be there for me, to make sure I wasn't alone, and after everything that happened, I slowly began to let him.

I drag myself out of bed and go through the motions of getting ready. The face in the mirror looks more like me than it did a few weeks ago. The weight loss has slowed, and there's some color back in my cheeks. But the eyes... they're still haunted, still carrying the remnants of the storm I've been trying to weather.

By the time I make it outside, Adam is leaning against his car, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sees me.

"Good morning," he says, opening the passenger door for me.

"Good morning," I reply, sliding into the seat. The car is warm, a sharp contrast to the chilly morning air, and I settle in as Adam gets behind the wheel.

The drive to the office is quiet, but it's a comfortable silence. We've fallen into a routine, one where words aren't always necessary. Adam seems to know when I need space and when I need company, and for that, I'm grateful.

As we pull up to my office building, Adam turns to me, his expression serious but gentle. "Do you want me to pick you up later?"

I hesitate, glancing at the dashboard. "I... I can drive myself, Adam. You don't have to keep doing this."

He shakes his head, cutting me off before I can protest further. "Viola, I'm doing this because I want to. I want you to know that you're not alone, no matter how much you might feel that way. Let me help you, okay?"

His words are a reminder of the promise he made to me that night at the restaurant. He's kept that promise every day since, and though I'm still trying to reconcile my guilt and fear, I can't deny that his presence has been a lifeline.

"Okay," I finally say, offering him a small smile. "Pick me up at six?"

"Six it is," he replies, his own smile softening the lines of worry on his face. "Have a good day, Viola."

As I step out of the car and walk into the office, I feel a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, guilt, and a flicker of hope. It's been a long time since I've felt anything resembling normal, but Adam's unwavering support is helping me find my footing again.

---

The workday passes in a blur, as most days do now. I throw myself into my tasks, trying to keep my mind occupied, but there are moments when my thoughts drift. They drift back to that night with Damian, to the fear that still lingers, to the uncertainty of what the future holds. But then I remember Adam's voice, his steady presence, and it helps pull me back to the present.

When six o'clock rolls around, I gather my things and head down to the lobby. True to his word, Adam is waiting for me outside, leaning against his car with that familiar patient smile. As I approach, he opens the passenger door for me again, a gesture that has become a comforting routine.

"How was your day?" he asks as we drive away from the office.

"Busy," I reply, glancing out the window at the passing streets. "But it helped keep my mind off things."

"That's good," he says, his tone encouraging. "You're doing great, Viola. Really."

I nod, but I don't fully believe him. There's still a part of me that feels like I'm just going through the motions, pretending to be okay when I'm not. But I appreciate his words, even if I can't fully accept them yet.

As we near my apartment, Adam surprises me by turning onto a different street. I glance at him, confused. "Where are we going?"

"I thought we could grab dinner," he says casually. "There's a new place that just opened up nearby. Figured we could check it out."

I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that I'm not in the mood, but then I stop myself. Adam has been doing so much for me, and I realize that I haven't really done anything in return. Maybe this could be my way of showing that I appreciate everything he's done, even if I can't put it into words.

"Okay," I agree, surprising both of us. "Dinner sounds nice."

We end up at a cozy little restaurant tucked away in a quiet part of town. It's the kind of place I would have loved before everything fell apart, and for a moment, I allow myself to enjoy it. We settle into a corner booth, and Adam orders for both of us, knowing my preferences better than I expected.

The food is good, but the conversation is even better. We talk about everything and nothing—work, movies, random anecdotes from our pasts. It's the most normal I've felt in a long time, and I find myself laughing at his stories, something I haven't done in weeks.

As we finish our meal, I catch Adam looking at me with a mix of fondness and something deeper—something that makes my heart ache with both gratitude and guilt.

"Thank you, Adam," I say quietly, my eyes meeting his. "For everything. I don't think I've said it enough, but... thank you."

He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "You don't have to thank me, Viola. I'm just glad I can be here for you. That's all I've ever wanted."

His words hit me harder than I expected, and I feel a lump forming in my throat. I squeeze his hand, hoping he understands the depth of my gratitude even if I can't fully express it.

When we finally leave the restaurant, the night air is cool and refreshing. Adam drives me back to my apartment, and as we pull up in front of the building, I turn to him, searching for the right words.

"Adam... I'm trying," I admit softly. "I'm trying to get better, to move forward. It's just... hard."

He nods, his expression understanding. "I know. But you're stronger than you think, Viola. You've been through so much, and you're still standing. That's something to be proud of."

I don't know if I believe him, but his words offer a small comfort, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, I'll get through this.

"Goodnight, Adam," I say, opening the car door.

"Goodnight, Viola," he replies, his voice warm and gentle. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As I make my way into the building, I glance back to see Adam watching me, his car idling at the curb until I'm safely inside. It's a small gesture, but it means the world to me.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of hope that maybe, with Adam by my side, I can find my way back to a new kind of normal.