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A lungful of air whooshes past my lips, and it’s as heavy as being pulled under by a big wave. Suffocating. Heavy.
My eyes grow distant once more.
I was upset, but would I have changed how things between Finn and me ended? I tell myself no, convinced myself of it for a long time, but…
My chin bows to my chest. I’d like to say since we’ve been back, things have been a blur of taking care of a toddler, sunny days, and salty ocean air. And it has, but this time, it’s also been empty. Something is lost and I hadn’t realized it was missing until now.
The things that have always brought me the most happiness not filling those holes inside my chest the same way as before.
“You done then?”
I nod, dragging up enough emotion to my face to appear like I’m more invested in the conversation than I am.
My mother takes my plate, the distant sound of a fork scraping porcelain claws at my ears as she empties the contents into the trash.
It is leftover penne pasta I hadn’t finished last night either. After several days, she finally assumes I won’t finish it, not because it isn’t good but because it reminds me ofhim.
Everything does, it seems, these days.
How feeble am I?
Really, really, embarrassingly pathetic.
If it isn’t food and remembering how Finn cooked for me, it is hearing something bounce and desperately, woefully jumping up from my spot, wanting it to be a basketball. Fuck, sometimes even being around Aiden is hard right now.
It wasn’t until those two met that I acknowledged how much they’re alike. Maybe that’s why it was so much easier to walk away for so long because, in a messed-up way, I had a piece of Finn through our son. I got him, whereas he got nothing but empty texts and voiceless calls until one day, those too stopped.
…An ounce of anything is better than nothing at all.
After a while, and I can’t be certain of how long—times not been my friend recently—my mom comes back, nodding toward the sliding doors.
Mutely, I follow behind her outside to the back deck. How much time have we spent out here as a family? Enough that when the weather is right, it becomes more popular than the actual living room.
The sea and the stars are the best company most nights. Tonight, not so much. Something tells me confessions will be more popular than the crashing of the waves to the shoreline.
“I put Aiden down for you,” Mom says, taking her usual seat on the far corner of the cushioned patio set.
I follow in a robotic fashion in my own spot across from her. The sweet scent of chocolaty goodness wafts in my nostrils as I take the cup of hot chocolate from the tray she brought out.
Perfect.
I take another whiff as my taste buds beg for a taste of the sugary torture. Like my food at dinner, I don’t give in.
My mother draws out her sigh of disappointment as she sips at her own.
“You were right.”
“About what?” I ask, arching a cautious eyebrow.
She stares out at the ocean. “Things changing.”
Earlier, I’d been talking about the tides, but I can tell by her tone she isn’t. It’s evident in the heaviness of her voice and her bribe of chocolate. The only thing that would make this all the more obvious is if she’d thought to bring out sour gummy worms.
The woman hasn’t reachedthatlevel of desperation…not yet, at least. But I wouldn’t put it past her to have some hidden away in her pockets, just in case.
The air is nice this evening. The breeze from the coastline has helped drown out some of the summer’s leftover humidity.
I lie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
