Page 74 of Taming Georgia

“Money can buy pretty much anything, but they’re wrong when they say it can buy happiness.”

—Georgia Wright

I lie on my side in a bed at Paige’s house. Let’s be real. This isn’t my bed, my room, or my home.Have I really ever had any of those things? A place that’s really mine?I’ve lived in more places than I can remember. I’ve slept in twin beds, double beds, queen-size beds, king-size beds, cots, hammocks, and on the floor. None of those spaces were mine. I was merely borrowing them until I had to leave again.

Even when I moved around as a child, not only did I get a new house each time, but I also got a new bedroom set. Moving furniture was an inconvenience to my parents. So, they sold each of their homes furnished and had new furniture set up in our new home before we got there.

I’ve never really had anything that was truly mine. I was never somewhere long enough to build friendships that would stand the test of time and distance. Material things weren’t important because we just bought new. Money can buy pretty much anything, but they’re wrong when they say it can buy happiness.

I wasn’t anywhere long enough to secure roots into the ground. Without roots, a flower will blow away in the wind. And without the nutrients from the soil, a flower will die. I’ve been drifting my entire life, desperate to grow roots strong enough that they’ll hold steady and keep me grounded. Sometimes, I think the only thing keeping me alive is the movement, the wind carrying me, not letting me fall.

Yet I feel like I’m closer to finding a home than I’ve ever been, one where I can actually settle into and stay. So, why do I want to leave?

Holding my passport in hand, I flip through the pages. This is mine. This passport and these experiences that make up my history, this is me.

I look at the stamps from all of the different countries in which I’ve resided. I’ve been all over the world. Each stamp reminds me of a time spent in a country where I did something good. Each experience fed my soul just enough to get me to the next place.

I’m happy. I love it here. But I’m also terrified. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to feel complete when I’m standing still. How is it possible to wear a big, authentic smile every day, be surrounded by love, and still feel alone?

Mila wakes from where she was napping at the foot of the bed. She crawls up to me and licks the tears from my face before snuggling in front of me, pushing her back against my front.

I kiss the back of her neck and wrap my arms around her middle. “Why am I always the big spoon, huh?” I tease with a sad chuckle as I bury my tear-soaked face into the rolls at her neck. I know when she’s a big girl she’ll have grown into all of this extra skin, which makes me a little sad. I love her rolls so much.

I love her so much.

How can I think about leaving her?

“It wouldn’t be forever. I’d be back,” I say out loud, though I know she’s no longer listening because her puppy snores fill the space.

Parents have to travel for work all the time, leaving their kids for a little while. It’d be like that. I’d go just for a small span of time. She could stay with Paige or Ethel. Then, I’d come back for her.

I justify the decision in my head because the truth is, I’ve already decided. I have to do this—for me. If Wyatt loves me, then he will understand. If I can save one little girl or boy from a horrible life, then it’s worth it.

Mila will understand.

Wyatt will understand.

Everyone will.

They have to.

“Please tell me you’re kidding!” Wyatt shoves each of his legs into his jeans and pulls them up with a jerk. Intense irritation lines his features—no, more than irritation. It’s fury, and I hate it.

I want to go back to moments ago when he was worshipping my body with his, when his lips paraded over my sensitive skin, making me squirm. I want to go back to the kisses, the moans, and the sensations that only he can bring me.

My body, still bare and heated from our lovemaking, misses his, and I pull the bedsheet up around me. The second I told him of my plans, he bolted from bed, from our embrace…from me. I recognize that I waited until after we made love to tell him. His reaction isn’t a shock.

“I’ll be back. This is just something I have to do,” I plead for his understanding.

“So, you’re leaving Mila? Just like that? You’ve only had her for a month! You’re leaving me?” He grabs a T-shirt and pulls it over his bare chest.

I mourn the loss of his exposed skin. He’s gorgeous, and a piece of me wonders if I’ll see him again without clothes.Will he be able to forgive me?

“I’ll be back for Mila, for you. Kylie said they need me. Try to understand.”

“Who the fuck is Kylie? If her needs are so important to you, why is this the first time I’m hearing her name?”

“She’s a friend. We met in China.” I kick my legs over the side of the bed. I grab my panties off the floor and pull them up. “Colima has the highest human trafficking rates in Mexico, Wyatt. It’s so sad. These young girls are taken and abused, exploited, used, and…who knows what else? But their families never see them again. Can you imagine?” My words get caught in my throat. The sadness I feel for these girls makes my eyes water.

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