Page 45 of Aug
“You’re right.”
The night went on without flaw. Rome spared no expense at the chophouse. Our night ended on her floor in silk pajamas and hair rollers. We laughed for hours at one rom com after the other until we both fell asleep.
By morning, my mind was made up. August became a figment of my imagination. Someone that could’ve been. Someone that possibly was. But, he no longer had the right to take up space in my head and heart. I wouldn’t allow it. He’d promised not to, but still managed to leave me lonely.
ELEVEN
The thunderous cloudsreleased droplets that landed on the black threads I’d dressed in before sunrise. They were crying too. They were weeping. And, they would never be the same either.
With my hands folded on top of each other, I peered into the six-foot hole that fit the cream casket like a glove. Everything I’d ever loved was in the ground. Everything I’d ever needed was in the ground. Everything I’d ever known was in the ground. Everything that had ever made sense for me was in the ground.
I swallowed the pride that had carried me through life. There was no room for it here. Pain soared through me, not missing a single inch of my body. The rain washed away the evidence of mycries, but there was one deep, deep inside of me that couldn’t be disguised.
Momma.
My lady.
My love.
My light.
My life.
Though it wasn’t likely, I prayed for the day I left earth before my mother. I didn’t want to bear the pain of losing her. I couldn’t stand even the thought of it. Standing in front of her casket alone, I realized it was no longer a thought. It was my reality.
Six weeks ago, she’d suffered an aneurysm. For four and a half weeks, she fought to stick around. However, continuous testing confirmed the lack of brain function. She’d never wake up. And, if she did, there wasn’t a chance of survival. Machines kept her alive for as long as I needed to stomach the idea of letting her go.
I wasn’t ready. Not when I got the call. Not when I touched down in Channing. Not when I made it to the hospital. Not for weeks after. And, certainly not now.
The pastor’s words echoed in the distance as I gathered my bearings and turned on the heel of my feet. I didn’t stop moving until I was tucked away in the back of the black SUV. I peeled the suit jacket from my shoulders, and placed my head between my hands as my elbows rested on my knees.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I responded, hating the way my voice cracked.
Hating the way my heart had cracked.
Hating the way my world had split down the fucking middle.
Hating the way there was an abyss so wide that I could hardly see around it.
Hating everything about this day and this moment because nothing would be the same after it.
The tarmac was my destination. Throwing myself back into work was the only solution for the immeasurable pain I felt. I had to suppress it. I had to block it out. I had to get ahead of it. I had to.
Silently, I rode in the backseat, praying for the aches of my heart to subside. My entire chest hurt. All of it. Down to my stomach which knotted a little more with each passing second.
Ti.
The name rang out in my head for the hundredth time over the last six weeks. However, strength wasn’t a privilege of mine at the moment or any moment since receiving the call that my mother was clinging to life.
I closed my eyes, hoping I hadn’t lost both of my girls in the same breath. I wouldn’t be able to withstand life if it was the case. Instead of dwelling on the idea, I quieted my thoughts and awaited the halting of the wheels. It wasn’t long before they came to a complete stop and I was climbing the stairs of the plane.
“Arrrrrghhhh!”
The glass that was once in my hand collided with the wall. Two hours had passed since I’d walked into my front door and I was no closer to feeling better than I had been when I stepped foot in Channing.
“FUCK.”
