Page 112 of We Drank the Dawn

Then I stared at the blank screen for thirty minutes.

The only item I came up with was “do something drastic with your hair.”

And that was it.

The screen blurred as I argued with my heart. Did I really have no vision for myself as an individual? Did I really want nothing without Peter? Why was altering my appearance the only thing I could think of?

Apparently, Peter Thompson had become my entire personality.

My mother flashed across my mind. But I gritted my teeth and positioned my hands on the keyboard, shoving her away. I had to finish this list.

“Have a baby.”

There we go. I found something real. But as I stared at the words, tears pricked at my eyes. In the throes of a broken marriage, solve world hunger seemed more realistic.

What would my have a baby strategy be? Find another man? Adopt?

I snorted as the silent house mocked me.

His absence stole the oxygen from all my dreams—even my dream to be a mom. And I couldn’t use a child to satiate my broken heart. It wouldn’t work anyway.

Closing my computer again, I fell onto my pillows, fighting to not shatter into a thousand pieces. And as I stared at the ceiling, the quiet overtook me. My heart, hell bent on remembering that awful moment, drummed up the memory of the way Peter’s cheek turned pink, of the way water pooled in the corner of his eye, in the way his jaw hung in shock as I walked out the door.

The amount of times I’d thought about that slap made me nauseous. Why did I hit him? I’d give anything to time travel and take it back. Even if we weren’t on good terms, we owed each other the most basic respect.

I imagined what Peter must’ve felt like.

My husband was blind and I hit him. Completely out of the blue. He didn’t even have a chance to mentally prepare himself. Stifling a cry with the palm of my hand, I cursed myself for such cruelty. I was so hurt and angry that I’d completely lost my head.

Peter had never been rough with me. I could almost feel his fingers running over the curve of my cheek, his thumb tracing my lips, and his palm sliding to the side of my neck.

The smack reverberated in the silence, and I lifted a fist and hit my forehead, wishing I could crush the memory.

If our love hadn’t been so perfect, this wouldn’t hurt this bad.

My phone’s quick vibration interrupted my spiral.

Jackie

You’ll be happy to know that Andre and I are no more.

Blinking, I stared at my phone as conflicting feelings stormed my chest. No, I wasn’t happy that Jackie had been sucked into the swipe-dating vortex. But, yes, I was glad Andre got the boot.

Me

Oh Jackie. I’m sorry.

Jackie

Don’t lie. You don’t do it well. eye roll emoji

Me

I’m not lying. I’m sorry you had to go through that.

Jackie

It’s not a big deal. You were mostly right about him anyway.