THE UNBROKEN ROAD

The apartment felt emptier now.

Not just because boxes lined the walls, filled with pieces of Olivia's life, but because something inside Daniel had shifted. He had spent a year avoiding this place, convinced stepping inside would break him.

But it hadn't.

It had hurt. More than he wanted to admit. But he was still here.

He sat on the couch, Olivia's notebook resting on his lap. The pages felt heavier than they should, as if they carried the weight of all the words she had never spoken aloud. He hadn't read more of it yet. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he didn't need to.

His phone buzzed on the table.

A text from Marco.

You alive?

Daniel smirked faintly.

Barely.

A moment later, another message.

Good. Harris says you're still slow. Gym. 8 AM. No excuses.

Daniel exhaled, shaking his head.

A few months ago, he would've ignored it. But now?

He stood, stretching out the stiffness in his muscles. His body ached from the last few rounds in the ring, but the pain was different from the kind he had lived with before. This pain was proof he was still moving.

Still fighting.

And maybe, for the first time, he wasn't just fighting to survive.

Maybe he was fighting to live.

Back in the Ring

The gym smelled like sweat and metal, the air thick with the sounds of fists against bags and the occasional grunt of exertion.

Daniel stepped inside, dropping his bag by the lockers. Harris was already in the ring, barking orders at Jason, who was working through footwork drills.

Harris glanced over. "You're late."

Daniel checked the clock. "By two minutes."

"Still late." Harris gestured toward the ring. "Gloves on."

Daniel smirked and grabbed his gear.

Jason wiped sweat from his brow and stepped back. "He's all yours, coach."

Harris climbed out of the ring, watching as Daniel moved to the center.

"Been thinking," Harris said. "You want to start training for something real?"

Daniel adjusted his gloves. "You mean an actual fight?"

Harris nodded. "You're not just some guy throwing punches anymore. You've got control. Power. If you're serious about this, I can get you a match."

Daniel's stomach tightened. He had never thought that far ahead. The gym had been an escape, a way to hit something without breaking himself. But now…

Now, it was something more.

Jason leaned against the ropes. "It's different when someone's trying to take your head off in front of a crowd."

Daniel rolled his shoulders. "I'm not scared."

Jason smirked. "You should be."

Harris crossed his arms. "You've got potential. But you're still fighting like you're waiting to lose."

Daniel frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harris sighed. "You can take a hit. But you don't fight to win, Daniel. You fight like you're proving you can still stand. That's not enough in the real ring."

Daniel clenched his jaw.

Harris was right.

And that terrified him more than any punch ever could.

The Ghosts That Remain

After training, Daniel walked home, his body sore but his mind restless.

A fight. A real one.

Did he want that?

Or was he just chasing something to fill the empty space Olivia had left behind?

As he reached his apartment, he found himself hesitating before unlocking the door. He had expected it to feel easier after last night. It didn't.

He stepped inside, the dim light from the street casting long shadows across the floor. The boxes were still there. The memories, too.

He sat on the couch, staring at Olivia's notebook.

Before he could second-guess himself, he flipped to another page.

"We don't heal by forgetting. We heal by remembering without breaking."

Daniel exhaled slowly.

Maybe that was what Harris meant. Maybe he had spent so long surviving that he had forgotten what it meant to fight for something more.

Something real.

For the first time in a long time, he felt something stir inside him.

Not grief.

Not regret.

Something closer to hope.