The One That I Want
“I have changed the locks on the front door at Susanna’s suggestion—unnecessary, perhaps, but just vengeful enough to send a message—so he rings the bell twice before I grant him entry inside. I have taken the time this morning to pull myself together, like a needle stitching up a ripped, jagged seam. A lingering shower, a squirt of perfume, a puff of blush, and a jade turtleneck that Tyler once told me made my eyes look like Easter eggs, bright and shiny and welcoming. I stare in the mirror as ...I blow-dry my hair until it lays flat against itself, spun golden thread, and try to resolve why I’m working myself into immaculate perfection: whether I want him to plead with me to allow him back or whether I want him to die of regret, right there on the front porch. Probably a little of both, I decide, before dropping my wedding band in my jewelry box. I still wear it every day, but today, no, I wouldn’t today.
It is still raining when he arrives, though the forecasters have called for the first snow of the season once the afternoon skies darken, and when I open the door, my stomach is a pit of fiery nerves, my sweat glands marching forward like a mutinous army.MoreLess
It is still raining when he arrives, though the forecasters have called for the first snow of the season once the afternoon skies darken, and when I open the door, my stomach is a pit of fiery nerves, my sweat glands marching forward like a mutinous army.MoreLess
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