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The next morning, which was a Tuesday, I got into work with a green juice in hand at 7:30 a.m. On the same wrist, I wore one of Mumma’s watches. Her watch next to my skin reminded me of the promise I had made to her—never to let any man break me again. “We will bury all the demons from Dev,” one of the last few things Mumma had said to me.
I looked at the streets full of runners prepping for the upcoming New York Marathon. I hope I can participate in it one day, I thought to myself.
The office was quiet. Walking past Rohan’s office brought back memories of the night before. I tried to push aside the memory of his lips on mine—so gentle so full—I didn’t want another heartbreak.
Suddenly someone whispered “boo” in my right ear. I dropped my handbag on the floor. I turned around; i
