Turbulent Sea of Numbness

Emma’s POV

After Michael leaves, I remain motionless, gazing at the ceiling with a numb detachment that feels like a precursor to oblivion. Twelve years ago, I endured abuse, but it was cloaked in remorse—an apology that did little to cleanse the stain of self-loathing but offered a semblance of closure. I had believed I deserved punishment for my inability to shield myself. If not for Daniel, my penance of starvation and exhaustive exercise might have persisted until it consumed me completely.

Now, the sense of defeat is absolute, and the need for self-punishment has evaporated into a profound resignation. Is there a way out of this torment? I wonder. An image of Daniel bathing Lily floats into my mind, a reminder of enduring innocence and love. A wistful smile crosses my lips; Lily is in capable hands. Daniel could forge a new family in my absence. He's never been one to endure solitude, and he would prioritize our daughter above all. Perhaps it's my destiny to fade from their narra