Work kept me busy over the weekend and all of Monday, but even having all my focus on work could not stop the weight from settling on my chest or the pit that grew in my stomach every day. They weren’t feelings I was familiar with, but I knew they had to do with Natasha.
Calling and texting had been futile exercises—she wasn’t answering.
We were both angry, and the distance didn’t help.
Though I wasn’t sure if it was her I was angry with. It was me. After she hung up on me, I realized why she was so upset. I’d missed a pivotal moment I could never get back in the life of my child. A moment when I should have been holding her hand and kissing her in excitement, and instead I was sitting at a conference table, firmly planting another wall between us.
Why I kept doing it, I had no idea. M
