Maya had always trusted her body more than people. It was reliable, disciplined, built from years of sweat and silence. As a competitive triathlete, she trained like it was a contract. Her breath, her pace, her pain tolerance—these were things she could measure. Control. Depend on.
She didn’t have time for distractions. Missed birthdays. Skipped weekends. No boyfriend had ever lasted longer than a race season. Most people said she was intense. Maya didn’t argue. Intensity was the point.