“I’m fine.”
“No, Mom. You’re hurting. And you deserve a chance to feel something other than hurt.”
Her words stayed with me.
So I packed.
I pulled sweaters from the closet that I hadn’t worn in years.
Found a few dresses.
Bought a new pair of walking shoes.
And carefully placed the cruise documents in my handbag.
On the morning of departure, Diane drove me to the terminal.
When we reached the gangway, I looked back at her.
“¿Y si lo odio?”
“Entonces volverás a casa con una historia sobre unas vacaciones terribles”.
I laughed for the first time in weeks.
She hugged me.
“Just give yourself seven days.”
I nodded.
As I boarded, I made myself a promise.
For one week, I wouldn’t call Marcus asking for explanations.
I wouldn’t reread his messages.
I wouldn’t search my memory for signs I’d missed.
