Lola
That weekend I felt happy, for the first time in a long time. I played with Macy, and we went out with Sara to the park. On Saturday, I treated her to pancakes for breakfast, and cooked an enormous bowl of spaghetti carbonara in my kitchen for Sara, her uncle Sebastien and her son, Raul. It had been so long since I’d had the money to have people over for dinner, and Macy and I made a real occasion of it. I dressed her in a princess dress and she and Raul sat playing with their toys. And that evening, I put Macy to bed, and played Frank Sinatra on my stereo, and relaxed with a glass of wine. What had come over me?
I knew, deep down, that it was Alex. Something about him had made me alive and alert to the world. His kindness hadn’t gone unnoticed. I couldn’t forgive him for his past a
