Titus didn’t wake up the next morning expecting clarity.
He woke up expecting regret.
That was what his life had trained him to feel whenever he stepped outside obedience.
But for the first time… regret didn’t come.
Only silence.
And space.
The small rented room felt unfamiliar in a different way now.
Not because it was new.
But because it was his.
No voices from home.
No demands in the middle of the night.
No expectations waiting at the door.
Just him.
And the echo of his own thoughts.
He sat for a long time on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.
For years, his life had been built around reacting:
To commands.
To needs.
To survival.
But now, there was nothing pulling him.
And that emptiness was more terrifying than exhaustion ever was.
Because for the first time…
he had to choose.
He stood up.
Took a deep breath.
And walked out.
The city outside was already awake.
Fast.
Loud.
Unbothered.
But Titus was no longer overwhelmed by it.
He was watching it differently now.
Not as someone beneath it.
But someone inside it.
Trying to find his place.
He walked for hours.
Not aimlessly.
But searching.
For something small.
Something possible.
Something that did not belong to anyone else first.
That’s when he found it.
A small roadside stall space.
Not...