Page 76 of This Could Be Us
I glance at the phone to check the comments again.
“ComeHithah2004, did you say, ‘add a pole’?” I laugh. “Like for pole dancing?”
I glance over to the space where Edward’s pool table sat before I butchered it with my machete.
“Pole dancing, huh? Now there’s a thought.” I turn to the camera and give them a little half-hearted, full-assed twerk. “I’ll think about it.”
Later that night, once the girls and I have eaten our tacos, finished homework, cleaned the kitchen, prepped lunches, and made sure uniforms are pressed and ready for tomorrow, I finally get to settle down in bed with my book in a moment of pure silence.
Until my phone dings with a text.
“I meant to mute you,” I mutter, but can’t resist checking to see who it is. I’m halfway to convincing myself I don’t want it to be Judah. My lady parts and heart parts can calm down. They don’t get a vote in the Judah situation. This is a dictatorship.
It’s not Judah.
Yasmen:Hey! Have you guys gotten to chapter four?
Hendrix:I haven’t even started. You know I’m out here in LA working. I thought you weren’t gonna pressure us???? What happened to reading at your own pace?
Yasmen:LOL! Girl, ain’t nobody pressuring you. There’s just something cool in that chapter and I wondered if you’d read it yet.
Me:Literally in bed now starting that chapter! Will I know it when I see it???
Yasmen:Oh, yeah. You will for sure, Sol.
Hendrix:I’ll start on the flight home. Love you, bitches.
Yasmen:Travel safe. Love.
Me:Love
I prop the book on my knees, which are pulled up under my cloud-esque duvet. It’s such a great chapter on self-love and fragile self-esteem and breaking from old patterns. My hands can’t keep up with my heart while I try to highlight all the truths dotted throughout these pages. It’s like a treasure map I’ve found at exactly the right time. bell hooks is reaching through the years to tell me I should take responsibility in all areas of my life, to believe I have the capacity to reinvent my life and shape the future around my well-being. There’s even a whole section on satisfied homemakers and the joy of self-determination and being your own boss. Each word is like a punch to the chest and a pat on the back. I’m encouraged and provoked at every turn. So much of it connects to my own life deeply that I consider stopping for the night to fully process all I’ve read.
“I’m still not sure what Yasmen thought was so special for me,” I tell my empty bedroom.
I decide to read a little more to finish the chapter. I’m nodding when she discusses creating domestic bliss, a household where love can flourish.
“Spot on,” I say, reaching for a handful of the roasted almonds I keep by my bed for the night growls. My hand stills midreach when I read the next line. hooks calls her house in the country a sanctuary and refers to it as “soledad hermosa.”
The brakes in my head screech, bringing me to a complete stop.
My name. Right here in the book that is slowly but surely restitching the fabric of who I am.
Soledad hermosa.Beautiful solitude.
Tears prick my eyes, spill over my lashes. It feels like a sign that I’m headed in the right direction, like a letter hooks sent encouraging me that Icanbe alone and not lonely. That this journey I’m on solo right now can be beautiful. I can be content. That my very name reflects this pursuit I’m on of renewal, understanding who I’ve been and who I’m becoming. Seeing my name in ink on paper in this context sprinkles goose bumps along my arms.
I close the book and, instead of returning it to my nightstand, lay it on the pillow where Edward used to sleep. My dreams aren’t haunted by the past or all the cruel thingshedid to me. I dream about a bright future of my own making.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JUDAH
MawMaw.”
Aaron’s voice gives me pause during dinner as I’m making sure none of my foods touch. I detest close food proximity.
“What about her?” I ask, giving him my full attention.