Page 102 of The Moment Promised

There’s a dull heaviness to the air as we finish our food. I can’t place it, so I ignore it and attempt to act as if it doesn’t exist. But it does.

It’s in the way my mom’s shoulders are stiff, and the way her eyes glass over as if she isn’t even here with us.

Finn tries to make polite small talk but fails miserably when I’m the only one to engage in it with him. My mom hardly nods her head as we speak of mundane topics.

It becomes a very uncomfortable afternoon. The drive home is loud with silence. My mom sits in the back seat. Her presence is so heavy, but at the same time she’s not even engaging with her surroundings.

I start to worry a little, when we hit a speed bump on the way to Finn’s house. He flew over it a little too fast and the momentum of the car caused us all to jolt in our seats.

I even let out a slight yelp, but my mom remained stoic.

What’s going on?

Did she relapse and I didn’t notice? Maybe she took something before we left, and it just started to kick in when we were sitting at Pete’s.

I glance at her in the reflection of the rear-view mirror, a worry snakes its way into my stomach, wrapping around my intestines.

Fuck.

I knew leaving her today was a bad idea. I should’ve stayed with her until I knew for sure she was at a good place mentally. I was too busy catching butterflies for my best friend at the beach to realize she had taken opioids.

My blood runs dry.

I’ve been too preoccupied with Finn to even notice my dad was sending her letters. I didn’t notice the change in her. I had no fucking clue of his invisible presence.

But as I look back, he was there all along.

Has Finn innocently been standing behind me, covering my eyes to the truth that’s been right in front of me this whole time?

Does my happy ending compromise my mother’s?

Everything shifts.

My heart still pounds in my chest, but now it hurts. My lungs still expand with air, but for what? Blood runs through my veins, but it doesn’t matter to me.

Everything I’ve done—every thought, every action—has been out of love. But it’s cut the power to all my other senses.

I glance at Finn. His easy expression, laid back and relaxed, loosely holding the steering wheel. What will he look like when I break the heart he so generously let me into? When I tell him it’s over, that it has to be over? That we’ve blindly hurt my mother and inevitably, ourselves, in the process of falling in love?

How silly of me to get wrapped up in having fun, losing sight of everything I’ve been doing for my mom.

I look out the window, careful to not let Finn see the silent tears that begin to fall.

I knew I wouldn’t get a happy ending, and it was only a matter of time until I was handed my tragedy on a silver platter.

The world around me loses its vibrant color, and as if mother nature could reflect my state of mind, a gray cloud rolls in and releases her silent tears.

I don’t confront my mom about the drugs or have a chance to talk to Finn. I’m simply a hollow shell that’s been gutted too many times to recover, so instead of facing reality I put on my wireless headphones, leaving the Walkers and my mother without so much as a goodbye.

I won’t be gone long, so they probably won’t even notice I left.

I just need tobreathe.

I strut down the sidewalk, eyes glued to my phone as I walk aimlessly with my headphones. It’s a tough decision, picking a happy song or a sad one.

I doubt any song could uplift my mood, no matter how upbeat it is. If anything, I’ll feel like a phony, pretending to be okay, happy even, when I’m on the other end of the emotional spectrum.

I’m broken and soul crushed, so I find a song to match how I feel. At least I won’t feel so alone in this. I crank the volume all the way up, drowning every realness of my reality out.

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