Fresh Start

Maya stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, running fingers through chin-length hair that still felt foreign. Three inches gone, sacrificed to the stylist's scissors yesterday afternoon—a symbolic severing she hadn't fully processed yet.

Her phone buzzed against the countertop. Again.

She ignored it. The last text she'd sent from that iPhone had been three days ago: *I can't do this anymore.* To David. To the five-year relationship that had been eroding like sand in a tidepool for longer than she wanted to admit.

Mister Whiskers wound around her ankles, demanding breakfast. David's cat, technically, though the gray tabby had always preferred Maya. Another loose end to untangle.

"You're staying with me," she whispered, scratching behind his ears. "He can find his own damn cat."

The kitchen smelled faintly of papaya—the fruit she'd bought on impulse yesterday, trying to convince herself she'd start actually eating something besides takeout and whiskey. As if wellness could be purchased at Trader Joe's in a single shopping trip.

She opened the cabinet and shook a vitamin C supplement into her palm, swallowing it dry. The first step toward the new Maya. The Maya who took vitamins and ate exotic fruit and didn't settle for someone who couldn't be bothered to show up to her father's funeral.

Her phone lit up with a new notification. David's name.

*Can we talk?*

Maya's thumb hovered over the screen. Part of her wanted to cave, to slip back into the comfortable misery of what she knew. Change was terrifying. At 34, starting over felt less like opportunity and more like failure.

But then she remembered the way he'd looked at her when she'd told him she wanted to try for a promotion—the skepticism, the subtle pity. *You're happy where you are, Maya. Why rock the boat?*

She deleted the text without reading it. Then she blocked his number.

Mister Whiskers meowed, impatient now.

"Okay, okay," she said, slicing into the papaya. Its flesh was bright orange, impossibly vibrant against the gray morning light. "We're going to be okay."

Outside, the city was waking up. Somewhere, her new life was already beginning, whether she was ready or not.

Maya took a bite of the papaya. It was sweeter than she expected.