He stands, and with one last lingering look at me lying naked in the bed, he turns and walks out.
I smile sadly at the door he just left through. “Yes, sure, you can have my number,” I whisper into the silence.
But he didn’t want it. He’s gone.
Twelve months later
I exhale and put my hand over my heart as I stand on the curbside and look up at the glass skyscraper in front of me. My phone rings, and the name Mom lights up the screen. “Hello, Mom.” I smile. I get a vision of my beautiful mother. She has a perfect blonde bob and flawless skin, and she’s always immaculately dressed. If I can look half as good as her at her age, I will be winning at life. I miss her already.
“Oh, darling, I just called to wish you good luck.”
“Thank you.” I tap my toe, unable to stand still. “I’m so nerv
