Her greasy and sweaty face was a picture of mock concern as she gleefully loaded up on low-carb bread and new workout gear, babbling on: "From today, it's nothing but steamed greens and evening runs for us!"
"We'll keep each other honest. Cheat on the diet? That's five hundred bucks!"
She was buzzing with excitement, while I just stared in silence, dumbstruck and uncertain, grappling with this bizarre reality.
Moments ago, I was a broken mess on the street, the agony of shattered bones still fresh, yet here I was, inexplicably back in my living room.
Seeing my vacant look, Olivia's brows knit together as she launched into a tirade,
"Megan, you're not backing out, are you? Don't shoot the messenger, but let's face it—you're 26, never had a boyfriend, probably because no guy wants to date a human dumpling."
"You're becoming a spinster, and if you don't buckle down and slim down, no one will want you when you're past your prime..."
Before, such cruel words would have sparked a fiery comeback from me.
Now, I just watched her, face stoic, lips pressed tight, silently absorbing the shock of my second chance at life.