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Leigh
I flip over on the bed again. It’s only eight-thirty at night, and I’m not tired, but I don’t want to do anything else, either. I can’t. Because I can’t quiet my mind.
I sit up on the bed and draw my knees to my bump. I can’t even reach all the way around my legs now. Sighing, I lean back against the headboard, letting my arms drop to my sides.
I screwed everything up.
All my life, I focused on not becoming my mother, on being nothing like her. Yet, all I’ve done these last few weeks is push people away, walk away from the people who love me.Just like her.
But I’m starting to think I’ve been looking at it all wrong. I tried never to act like her, stopped doing anything that reminded me of her—like dance. I loved to dance. I changed so much of myself trying to keep her out of me. I closed myself off so I wouldn’t get hurt. All I’ve done is hurt myself. And now the other people in my life.
I don’t want to be like this. But I’m still mad. And hurt. I wish I could go back and change it. I wish I could’ve talked to her.
Sitting forward again, I climb off the bed and grab my purse and one of my bags. I throw some clothes in the bag, zip it up, and sling it over my shoulder, along with my purse.
Braden’s right.
Never thought I’d say that.
This isn’t who I am. This isn’t who I want to be. I’m fierce, and strong, and don’t give up. I’m going to deal with this—scream, yell, cry if I need to—but it’s time to move forward.
When I get down the stairs, Veronica looks up from the book she’s reading and raises her eyebrows.
“Um, thank you for letting me stay here, but it’s time for me to deal with things.”
She and James look at each other and smile. Veronica walks across the room and gives me a hug. “You’re always welcome here, but I think you’re making the right decision.”
“Thank you.”
I turn to James and give him a smile. Of course, he’s already smiling back at me.
“Go on,” Veronica says, shooting me a wink.
With my head held high, I make my way to my car.
It’s time to talk to Abuelita.
