The rest of my words are cut off when we walk in and see the wall that runs the length of the room.The wall I already pictured our bed pushed against, facing the window that overlooks the backyard and the huge mango tree growing there.
Sprawled across the entire wall in bright red paint is one word:Whore.
“That fucking motherfucker.”
It’s move-in day today,and Miles is already at the house getting the last of the painting taken care of.I’m at my mom’s packing up what I have to bring over to the cottage, not caring in the least that all we have is a mattress that will likely be on the floor until we can get furniture.
It’s better than this back-and-forth between my mom’s house and Miles’s place that he shares with Kai.Especially since Kai is hell-bent on bringing home every girl he picks up on the beach or at a local bar.Not to mention his casual and carefree sex with my boss.I’m not sure Kai will ever settle down, enjoying his love-the-one-you’re-with lifestyle.
“You sure you’re ready for this?”I hear my mom’s voice ask, turning to find her standing in the doorway as I sit on the floor filling a suitcase with my clothes.She stands propped against the frame, her arms folded over her chest, her dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck.
My mom has always been gorgeous, and when my dad left, it was devastating, but in the back of my mind, all I longed for was for her to find someone new, someone who would take my dad’s place because she deserved it.She deserved someone great.
It never happened, and as I look at her standing in the doorway, she’s still stunning and hardworking and brilliant.She still deserves someone great, and if the world can align and bring Miles and me back together, I have hope it will still happen for her.
“What do you mean?”I ask her, narrowing my eyes at her question.I’m not even sure I understand what she’s asking.
Of course I’m ready.I’ve been waiting for this day since Miles left almost two years ago.Back then, it felt unattainable, like a far-off dream that would only visit me in my sleep.
She was with me through all the tears and the heartache.She consoled me as I sobbed into my pillow, begging for her to make the hurt stop.
And now she’s asking me a question that feels like I shouldn’t even have to answer.I press my lips together, pushing back the feeling of anger welling up inside me.I don’t want to snap at her because today is supposed to be a happy day.
“I mean, you just broke up with Isaac—” Cutting her off before she can say anything more, I’m on my feet, shaking my head.
“It was never anything with Isaac.”My words come out loud and defensive.I can say this now because hindsight is twenty-twenty.“And anyway, you hated him.”
This is what our relationship has been since I moved back in with my mom all those months ago.It’s been a steady stream of arguments, and this constant need to defend myself and my choices despite being in my twenties.
Now here I am, defending my opportunity to start a life with Miles.This is the last thing I thought I would be arguing with her about.Dropping out of school was an argument.Dating Isaac was an argument.Moving back in with her was an argument.
But this shouldn’t be.
“Will you ever just be happy for me?”I hiss, tears burning my eyes as I angrily force the suitcase closed, yanking the zipper roughly.
Letting out a long, slow breath, summoning all my willpower, I try to push back the anger that continues to flare inside me.
“I am happy for you, Daisy.All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, but I don’t want you to rush into something and find…” She trails off now, looking around my room.
Watching her swallow, her throat bobbing with movement.I see she’s fighting back the tears too.
But for a different reason than me.
“Mom,” I whisper, and that’s all she needs to hear before the tears spill over.“I’m going to be okay.Miles and I…” I can’t finish my thought, struggling to say what I know she’s thinking.
She doesn’t want me to end up like her, but is that really such a bad thing?
I look at her, and all I see is someone who raised two daughters on her own, strong-willed and independent.While I know that’s not the life she expected, it’s the one she built all on her own, one that she should be proud of.
“It’s hard for me,” she says as I walk over to meet her in the doorway.Embracing, we hold each other.“I want you and Miles to have the life you’ve always dreamed of, but I worry.I worry so much after what happened.After he left.”
“I know, and it’s hard for me too.But Miles and I are working through it.We’re going to be okay.We’re going to be better than okay.”
She pulls back, her hands resting on my arms, her expression soft, but her eyes tell a different story.Still filled with the glistening remnants of tears, she forces on a weak smile.
“If you need to come back, you know you can,” she tells me, and I nod, not wanting to think about what that means.
It’s not going to happen, and as much as I want to tell her that, I keep it to myself.Her life and my life will not mimic each other, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it.I’ve thought about it a lot since Miles and I have gotten back together, but I can’t live in the past.It’s time to move on.
