12
12 Lydia
LydiaLydia“Why are you the one moving out?”
Lydia gently questions her daughter, rolling up a framed photograph of the young couple on their wedding day, three years ago, in bubble wrap.
“I offered. I’m the reason we’re at this point. Mark doesn’t want to separate. He is convinced we can work everything out, and get back to where we used to be. The thing is, I’m not sure I was ever even where he ‘used to be,’ and that is the problem.” Aimee pauses, tucking her long, straight blonde hair behind her ears, and breathing deeply. Lydia says nothing, giving her space to keep going if she wants to.
“I need time and space to clear my head. I just feel so freaking weighed down and tired. Mom! I am only thirty-two years old. I shouldn’t feel this way. I need to figure my s**t out,
