My own progress came in less visible ways.

I stopped checking the door lock six times before bed.

I began accepting invitations from coworkers for coffee.

One evening I walked into a grocery store without studying every vehicle in the parking lot.

I still had difficult days, and Lily did too.

But we learned to recognize them as days rather than as proof that nothing had changed.

At one of our family therapy appointments, Lily asked whether being safe meant nothing bad could ever happen again.

The therapist looked at me and waited.