Page 100 of If Our Hearts Collide

It isn’t like Momma didn’t offer to help me unpack. She always volunteers. I just need to not use her as a crutch for everybig decision I make. If I want to spread my wings, why would I constantly try to do so in the safety of a cushioned cage?

You can do this, Penny.

I take a few deep breaths and then find a playlist on my phone to get me in the mood.

When I was at Soulful Mind, I used music a lot to cope with the stress and anxiety I had festering inside of me. I even did music therapy classes, as well as horseback riding there. I loved being with the animals because they never judged me for not talking or not acting a certain way. Animals can sense moods, and it helped to have that ease of companionship without the pressure to be perfect.

No matter how happy my family is to have me back in the area, they are still expecting me to go back to being my old self, and I hate disappointing them. That version of myself died the night Mark drugged me.

They are never going to get her back.

I grab the highest stacked box from the pile and peel back the strips of packing tape. I never bothered labeling anything because I don’t have a lot of possessions. When living at home, it never benefited me to have my own dish or silverware set. All of those kitchen items and gadgets can just be bought new.

When I dig inside the box, I find some of my favorite pairs of shoes. I dance my way down the hall to my bedroom, dumping my armful of shoes onto the floor near my closet. Kneeling down, I arrange them onto the built-in rack.

An amazing feature of this particular unit is how big the bedrooms are. Both rooms have the same square footage and similar layout, so I don’t feel guilty for choosing mine first.

Picking myself up from the floor, I meander back into the living room. I have so many more boxes to open. It’ll probably take me all week to get everything situated.

But no matter how hard I try to visualize my new space, I’m struggling to see the big picture.

Grabbing my phone, I shoot a group text to Claire and Angie.

Penny: I am at my new place and I am not sure how to go about decorating it. Want to come over and help me brainstorm?

I get a response almost immediately.

Claire: Of course! I live for moments like these! I’ll bring the supplies.

Angie: I can pick you up, Claire. I would love to help.

Penny: Supplies?

Claire: Think arts and crafts…

Angie: But on steroids…

Claire: For our vision board! Woot woot!

While I wait for the girls to arrive, I skip down to the little home décor boutique that is literally just a few minutes’ walking distance from my new place.

I don’t have a clear style, but I definitely enjoy the concept of color to transform a space.

Grabbing turquoise knobs for my bedroom nightstand, I place them on the checkout counter. Then I go back to get some matching ones for the en suite.

“Did you find everything you needed?” the worker asks, her voice kind and helpful.

I glance around the shop. “Umm, do you have any paintings or wall art?”

“I sure do. There’s a whole gallery lineup in this room on the side. Here, I will show you.”

I follow her into the attached room that I never even noticed before now. “Wow. These are wonderful.”

Various photos, paintings, and sculptures fill up the space.

“Did you have something in mind?”

I shrug. “I don’t have any style. I am just grabbing things that catch my eye to brighten up my new apartment.”

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