By the Friday night, my mother has left me two angry voicemails and written me an e-mail that would usually leave me annoyed, but instead, garners a paltry apology from me and I promise to see her the following weekend, inviting her to Portland.
She clearly doesn’t know about David and myself being broken up, so I don’t let on about it when she tries to bait me. I can’t have her trying to dissuade me from my plans.
I have moved past the tears and now drift off to sleep, an empty shell. My dreams are of David and I on the beach on Cape Elizabeth, a baby in a sling pressed close to my body and Hope sitting between us, her head on my shoulder.
Waking up alone still feels odd, even after not being with David for almost a week. The silence is deafening and I can’t seem to find my focus
