Picking up my phone, I glance at the date. My mind has been in a fog. I didn’t even realize the event was today.
I take a sip out of my mug. “I’m not going anymore.”
“What?” Mazi sets her coffee down, widening her eyes. “But Annalise, this is a huge opportunity, and you’ve been so excited about it.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t care to go anymore.”
“Annalise, please. This could be your way out. I know you don’t want to keep working for Veronica.”
I shake my head. “I don’t see the point in going, Mazi. Evenif it turns out to be a success, I know it’ll be short-lived. Nothing good in my life ever lasts. Misery always seems to follow me.”
Mazi walks over to me, resting her hand on my shoulder. “I know your world fell apart when you lost your abuelo, but he wouldn’t want you to keep living like this. He would want you to be happy.”
“I’m going to email them and cancel,” I mumble as I walk toward the couch.
“Annalise, don’t?—”
“Just drop it, Mazi. Okay?”
She lets out a defeated sigh and grabs her purse. “I’ll see you later tonight.”
As soon as the door closes behind her, I take out my phone to draft an email to the marketplace manager. The living room fan’s breeze sends a chill down my spine, prompting me to rise and switch it off. In my distraction, I accidentally topple over a box on the coffee table filled with Abuelo’s belongings—his cherished photo albums, a favorite watch, a scarf I knitted for him, and other mementos.
As I carefully gather everything and return it to the box, my gaze falls upon the Bible he had gifted me. It lays open nearby, with Isaiah 54:17 highlighted.
No weapon formed against you shall prosper.
The memory of Abuelo reading me this verse before he passed flashes through my mind.“Every time the enemy poisons your mind with negative thoughts and uncertainty, or you are feeling weak, I want you to refer back to this verse.”
Fresh tears spring to my eyes as I reflect on how I’ve been acting since he passed. I’ve shut everyone out and lost the will to do anything besides eating and sleeping. In my grief, I’ve become spiritually weak and have allowed those negative voices to consume me. I’ve been headed down a dark path and am starting to become someone I don’t recognize.
The Bible opening to this very verse must have been a message from above.
I retrieve my phone from the couch and delete the email I’d drafted.
Heading to my room, I start boxing up clothes to prepare for the pop-up shop.
I made a promise to Abuelo that I would keep pursuing my dreams and make him proud.
The pop-up shop is going well so far. I’ve sold most of my items, and I’ve enjoyed conversing with the customers and helping them choose clothes that complement their skin tone and figure.
“Do you have this in a medium?” a young woman with light brown hair asks as she holds up a lavender sundress. “I graduate next month and this dress would be perfect.”
“No, but I should have some more in stock next week on my online shop.” I smile and hand her my business card.
“Thank you so much!” She beams, taking the card from me.
“I hope you have a great rest of your day.”
“Thanks. You too!” She gives me a smile and goes off to explore other shops.
For the first time in weeks, I’m finally feeling happy—but it quickly dissipates, morphing into anger when I see Charlotte walk in.
“It’s nice to see you’re still designing clothes. You were always the best dressed in high school.” She picks up a blouse, running her hands along the soft fabric.
“I’m getting ready to close,” I say, my voice cold. “So you can leave now.” I start gathering the clothes that are left, refusing to make eye contact with her.
“Wait, please—I came here to talk to you.”
