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“Darling, it’s not meant to be easy. You can get through this; everyone goes through something at least once in their life that destroys them in one way or another.” She pauses for a moment as if remembering something that may have happened to her once upon a time. “It’s when youchooseto overcome it, that’s when you’ll start healing. Be brave my love, don’t let what happened in the past cripple your future.”
I choke on my inhale, my throat burning as if hot coal was being pushed into my mouth and being forced to swallow, but I won’t let the tears fall. Because if I start, they won’t stop. I don’t want to admit just how broken I am, how fragile my heart is. One small movement and it will shatter into a million pieces. I don’t want to explainjusthow much of a spare part I now feel because I have no place, I have no reason or motive. I gave upeverythingfor Luke.
Everything.
And for what?
To come back home with my tail between my legs with just my dog, my laptop and my McLaren.
I suck in a breath just as my mom’s hand drops and I instantly miss her motherly embrace.
“Are you going out with them tonight seeing as you blew them off last week?” I watch as she steps back and lifts the cast iron teapot from the stove, giving it a gentle shake from side to side to see if there is any water inside.
“I don’t know mom, I’m not sure if I am feeling up to it.” It wasn’t a lie. I had no idea if I wanted to go out with them or not. Old feelings will resurface, blurring into new ones and I’m honestly not sure if I am quite ready for that just yet.
“Well, me and your dad are going out with Jorge and Orla so you’ll have the house to yourself. Whatever you want to do,” she waves her hand at me. Rolling my lips, I push my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and turn to look out the window again, watching the farrier just a little bit harder now.
“I’m going into town and to the mall tomorrow, need to get some last bits for Christmas. Why don’t you come with, get some new clothes and whatever else you need.”
“I have no money,” my voice is tight, and I refuse to turn to look at her because my eyes are misting, the intense pressure building and my chest heaves, ready to cave in at any given moment.
“Our treat,” she quickly replies.
“Mom…” I swallow down the tears, swallow down the remorse and guilt I am feeling for ever leaving and pushing them aside as soon as Luke came along.
“It’s okay Aspen,” her tone is soft and she continues waiting for her teapot to boil, my eyes find her over my shoulder and as I blink, a tear rolls down my cheek.
“I just…” I stammer but struggle to form the words, tightness coats the narrow column of my throat, swallowing hard.
“I’m here when you’re ready,” her voice stays soft, but I appreciate her kind words. She pours the hot water into a mug of chamomile tea. I didn’t ask for one, but she’s made one anyway and my heart warms.
I take it from her and lean against the kitchen counter as I blow on steam before taking a tentative sip. We stand in companionable silence for a few minutes, my mom somehow knowing I need to process all of our conversation. Decision made, I place my still half full mug by the sink and head for the front door, my heart thrashing in my chest as my fingers curl around the doorknob.
“I’m going to be brave, mom,” my voice is a little louder as she follows me out into the hallway.
“I have no doubt, sweetheart.”
Walking onto the porch, the cold air hits me and causes me to cough as the chill hits my lungs. My dad, Austin and the hot farrier have disappeared, and something surges deep in my chest but I am unsure of what emotion has caused it. Pinching my brows, my eyes search the front of the house as I step down the steps and onto the dusty gravel path. My boots crunch and my head tilts down as I move my feet from side to side, digging the toes of my boots into the gravel a little further. After a quiet moment with myself and my ever-noisy thoughts, I will for my legs to move me forward, to carry me towards the large stables. With each step that brings me closer, the quicker my heart gallops inside my chest at a steady, even beat. But with each step comes anxiety. Soul crushing, chest caving anxiety.
I can do this.I remind myself on loop.
My boots crunch across the stones and the smell I once found so comforting fills my senses and fear surges inside of me; so much that I almost feel paralyzed.
I hear my dad’s voice and Austin letting out a small laugh that fills the large space ahead of me.
“Pops?” I call from the wide entrance of the stables, the sliding door hooked back.
“In here Penny,” his voice echoes through the stalls. I inhale deeply, holding my breath for a second as I take a small step forward, but not a big enough one to be able to step across the threshold. The familiar smell teasing at my senses, my fingers knotting as I take another step forward and this time, I step over the metal grate. The warm smell intoxicates me, musty like hay in the spring, sweet and addictive. This used to be one of my favorite smells. I would have rather buried my nose in a horse’s neck and inhale than smell a bouquet of flowers.
There was something poignant about the smell and comforting at the same time. A warmness burned in the depths of my stomach and my heart thumped in one large, heavy beat.
Gliding cautiously through, I ignore the burning ball of anxiety that presents itself deep in my stomach. I walk to the end of the stables, turn the corner and that’s when I see my dad, Austin and the hot farrier all standing in one of the corner stalls.
All eyes on me.
Blinking, smiling, waiting with bated breath for something to fall from my lips.
I shrink back and stand just the other side of the stable door, not quite ready to push myself any further.
