Page 119 of Love Marks
She nods and pats my shoulder. I know she’s trying to hide the pity in her expression but she’s doing a terrible job. It’s written all over her face.
“Baby. Just talk to him.”
A shudder rolls through me. I don’t even bother trying to argue with her. She does this every few days and every time I shut her down.
I can’t. Can’t think about him. Can’t think about myself, who I am, who I’ve let myself become. This…nothingness.
“Love you,” I say, my voice flat. I don’t wait for her response before I turn and walk away.
I wander around until I find myself walking towards Prospect Park. It’s a warm day and the streets are littered with the joy of spring everywhere I look. I wish it were winter again. I wish I could bundle myself away from the world. Hibernate. Wish everyone else could feel the cold steel in their bones.
I try to steady my mind with a sigh. I need to figure my life out. I realize I’ve spent the last few years just…floating. Waiting. Waiting for my mom to be okay. Waiting for my restaurant dreams to somehow magically come true. Waiting for my life without realizing it’s been passing me by this whole time.
Now, my mom is married and moving to Long Island. I’m alone and probably about to be homeless. Wesley is gone because I pushed him away. Because I’m not strong enough. Not good enough. What was I thinking? Why would anyone be interested in me for anything but sex? I’m clearly not capable of handling an adult relationship. Stupid of me to even try.
I don’t think I’ve felt this emptiness in a while. Since after Derek, probably. It’s like everything I was scared of is happening and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Like I can close my eyes and almost imagine the life I dream about: my mom healthy; me, in my own apartment, running a successful restaurant. But no matter how hard I try to erase it, to imagine some other future, the dream always includes Wesley by my side when it happens.
I stop walking and sit on a bench, rubbing my hands on my arms to try and ground myself. My shaky inhale is interrupted by my phone ringing in my pocket. Filled with a mixture of hope and dread, I glance at the name, expecting to see Wesley’s name flashing on my screen. Instead, it’s Sheila. She’s Facetiming me.
I force my mouth into something that resembles a smile and answer the call.
“Sheila?” I blink at the blank screen in front of me. “Are you there?”
Her familiar raspy voice greets me. “How does this thing work? Can you see me?”
I shake my head. “No, your screen is blank. Are you in the FaceTime app?”
“Yeah, that’s what I did. I FaceTime called you.”
I suppress a growing smile, despite my mood. “No, click into the app, and hold the phone up in front of your face.”
Sheila’s face appears on the screen. She’s leaning away from the phone, staring at it like a foreign object.
“Can you see me now?”
“Yeah. Can you see me?”
She scrunches her nose and peers closer. “Oh! There you are. Stupid thing never does what I want.”
“How are you? How’s Vegas?” I ask.
She scowls. “Who cares about Vegas? It’s exactly what you’d think — lots of strippers and gambling. Don’t change the subject on me.”
“Subject? We just started talking.”
Her scowl only deepens. “So, you have no idea why I’m calling? There’s nothing going on with you that might require some insightful advice from a wise old lady?”
I shake my head. “If this is about my mom…”
“Nah, I talked to her earlier. She’ll be fine. She’s a fighter. Now I thought you were one too, but now I’m hearing that apparently you wanna be a coward all of a sudden.”
Ouch.
Leave it to Sheila to take absolutely no prisoners when it comes to calling me out.
“Great talk. Thanks for calling. Always great to hear from you,” I deadpan.
“Come on. What are you doing? The girl I knew would run headfirst into the life she wanted the first chance she got.”