Part V · Reclamation
Nicotine
My team messages buzzed:
“Sit down.
Stop smoking away your life.
Do you want to die and leave the kids
in her care?”
Subtle. Effective.
She hated smoke,
a sharp contrast to vanilla’s trace.
I chuckled.
She got under my skin.
I wanted her to.
She forced me to focus:
the legacy I’d leave.
Were these drags worth it?
Eased palpitations,
never the stress.
Brief relief—
then crumble.
The message came daily.
Every time I stood,
my phone buzzed.
I smiled.
She taught me:
encouragement beats disdain.