Unhurriedly, I shook my head. “I taught myself to speak for myself with the strength of my friends—ofChristian.”
“His father was fun,” she responded. “You and I are the same, Adelaide.”
“You need people’s sadness to get what you want. All I need is courage and confidence.” I lifted my chin, “We arenotthe same.”
Putting the phone back in its receiver, she yelled through the glass. “A man like Christian will break your heart.”
A sad smile.
“You’ve already done that.”
With a heavy perched heart but released tension. I walked out the door with a newfound sense of being.
It was easier accepting reality when it wasn’t pinching you from the inside.
FIFTY-THREE
ADELAIDE
“You have another one today, ma’am.”A week after I moved out of Christian’s apartment, I started receiving packages. Three months passed since the day in the woods. I hadn’t gone to see Eda, nor did I want to. It was weird, deleting her messages, her contact from my phone, and trying to move on like she didn’t uphold the guardian figure. Erasing her succeeded to be as difficult as forgetting a parent—near impossible. Progress was slow, but eventually her presence would dim.
Bad people and memories were like flickering streetlights in the back of my mind. From inside your room, you covered it with your blinds—but you always knew it was there. Sometimes it wouldn’t work at all, and you’d sleep peacefully without thinking about it. Other times, you weren’t lucky.
One day, it would run out of light and that would be the same day I didn’t check twice behind my blind.
The new place I lived in was one floor belowChristian’s. I’d rented out the place below his, to save face until our divorce was finalized. So far, he hadn’t sent papers and… neither did I. But I’d get to it soon.
As much as I wish he hadn’t, he found out where I lived. For the past month, he sent me books, flowers, and wonky jewellery. Today was November first—the first snowfall of the year—and Christian’s new dress.
On the second month of our separation, he sent me the first hand-painted dress. A strapless corseted white top flowing out to my knees. Watercolour designs glamorized it. Without a doubt, it was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. Umaima told me Christian spent days away from work to make the dresses he sent me. Which, without a doubt, was swoon worthy.
While I hate to admit it, I was excited for this next dress. The softest sheer satin caressed my palm when I lifted it out of its tissue packaging. Black with delicate gold embroidery in the pattern of tiny…stars.
At the hem of the dress, along the lines of the stitching were the words:
Even the stars wish upon each other for us to reunite.
Oh, Christian.
The beat in my heart skipped and danced and sashayed around in happiness.
I wouldn’t let myself fall despite how easily he pushed me.
When I stuffed the dress back into the box, I decided today was the day. The first snowfall of the year was the day to say goodbye to this love. If I didn’t, there would be nothing of me left and this would continue.
Grabbing my coat, the necklace, and my courage—I walked out with a purpose.
Brooklyn Bridge was empty.
A rarity for today’s occasion.
Albeit the cold surpassed any reason to come out here and watch the snow fall under a dark sky.
The East River flowed with its usual sporadic currents, the snow disappearing into the watery cracks. I held the necklace tight in my hand, extending it and then bringing it back to my chest.
If I did this—really did this—that was it.
No more Christian.
