Ethan sat at the kitchen table, fingers curled around a mug of lukewarm coffee. Momo was curled up on the windowsill, basking in a sunbeam that filtered through the sheer curtain.
Outside, the city moved—cars honking, people rushing, life happening. Inside, he felt suspended in time.
He had three days to decide.
Three days to say yes to the San Francisco move.
Three days to step into a life he had once dreamed of—and walked away from.
Sofia entered the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. "You didn't sleep?"
Ethan shook his head. "Been thinking."
"About MicroPatch?"
"Yeah. Mira called again. They want me out there in a week."
Sofia leaned against the counter. "And?"
"I don't know."
A Dream Revisited
The old Ethan—the one before the collapse—would have jumped on the plane without hesitation.
Back then, San Francisco had meant ambition, purpose, success. Now, it felt like a ghost town of a dream that didn't quite belong to him anymore.
He looked at the calendar pinned to the fridge.
One week ago: Apply for business mentorship.
Three days ago: Submit resume to the think tank.
Yesterday: Volunteer with the animal shelter.
All of it... small steps. But steps forward.
Could he really leave that behind?
Momo's World
Later that afternoon, Ethan sat on the floor of the living room, building a cardboard playhouse for Momo. She watched intently from the coffee table, tail flicking slowly.
"You're spoiled, you know that?" he murmured, cutting a window into the side of the box.
Momo blinked lazily, then stretched and hopped into the box, inspecting every corner with regal interest. She settled into one of the compartments and rolled over, exposing her fluffy belly.
He chuckled. "I'll take that as approval."
Sofia peeked over his shoulder. "You two act like you've been living together for years."
"She's the only roommate I don't argue with."
"Yet."
The Offer
That evening, Ethan received another email from Mira. It was short.
We're meeting with angel investors next Tuesday. You should be here. If you're not, we'll move forward without you. No hard feelings. But you need to choose.
The words hit harder than he expected.
He wasn't angry. She was right.
He needed to choose.
Was he going to stay in this small apartment, building cat castles and volunteering at local shelters?
Or was he going to chase the version of himself he once believed he had to be?
He closed the laptop. The answer wasn't in an email.
A Walk in the Evening
Sofia suggested they take a walk.
They brought Momo, zipped safely in her backpack, lined with a fleece blanket and a lavender-scented comfort toy. Her big round eyes peeked out through the mesh as they walked past quiet residential streets.
"Think she'll ever get used to the outside?" Sofia asked.
Ethan glanced at the bag. Momo was still. But not shaking this time.
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe she doesn't have to. Maybe she's meant to have her own pace."
"She's lucky she found you."
"I think I'm the lucky one."
Stillness and Clarity
That night, Ethan couldn't sleep again.
He sat on the balcony, the city a soft hum in the background, Momo curled up in his lap. Her purring was rhythmic, like waves lapping against a quiet shore.
He thought about the old timeline—how he'd burned himself out chasing validation, living on caffeine and self-doubt, climbing a ladder that led nowhere.
And here, in this tiny apartment with a stray cat in his lap and a heart that didn't race with anxiety… he felt something else.
Peace.
Not contentment.
Not resignation.
But clarity.
The Choice
In the morning, Ethan made two calls.
One to Mira.
"I won't be joining you," he said, calmly. "But I'm rooting for you. Every step."
Mira was silent for a second. "I figured. You sound... different."
"Better?"
"Wiser."
The second call was to the local small business incubator. They had a slot open for a mentorship program that helped solo founders scale passion projects into real companies.
"I'm in," Ethan said. "Let's do this."
The First Step
Ethan sat back at his desk, Momo jumping up beside him with a chirp.
He scratched behind her ears. "You ready to help me build something new?"
She purred louder.
He opened a blank document and typed:
Restart My Life: A platform for midlife creators rebuilding from scratch.
This time, he wasn't just surviving.
He was creating.