Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Get up.
I will my body to move. I wince and crack my back, letting my bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Sleeping alone has never been a favorite of mine. Until Evan, I spent years with poor sleep patterns, both in falling and staying asleep. Even more than that, I don’t like how Evan’s side of the bed doesn’t have the faint smell of him anymore. I can feel the solemn expression on my face as I glance at where he used to sleep, but it only pushes me to stand up straighter and wipe the sleep from my eyes.
The floor protests as I walk, and I let the feeling that someone was in here leave me. I have the security system … but I think I’d like a dog. A big dog.
The corners of my lips tip up into a smile as I walk down the stairs.
Pushing back the hair from my face, I slink down to the kitchen and turn on the light. It’s early, but I’m starving. To sleep, or not to sleep becomes the question.
It only takes a glass of water, two Twinkies and a couple handfuls of grapes before I don’t feel so hungry anymore and sleep is calling me upstairs again.
Passing through the dining room, I check over my shoulder just to make sure there’s no one here. That eerie feeling still clings to me.
I think I’ll name the dog Brutus. My lips purse as I wonder how dogs do with infants … I make a mental note to look that up first thing tomorrow.
I think I’m starting to really feel pregnant. It’s beyond being exhausted. It’s something else, something that makes me rub my belly and talk to him or her as if they’re already here. Some type of knowing and it makes me smile.
Before I can head back upstairs, my eyes catch sight of the flowers on the table. The flowers Jacob sent me when Henry died are already wilted. Bright yellow sunflowers. They’re large and the stems are thick. They’ll eventually die and by the look of them, that time is coming soon. What a shame … that’s what flowers do, though. They die.
Next to the vase is my laptop and I absently pull it toward the edge of the table then take a seat. My body aches, my hips especially, and sitting up feels better than lying down. I might as well get a little work in before I try to sleep again.
A yawn leaves me as the dim light of the computer brightens.
Studying the flowers again, I think about how twisted it is that I turned down a man who could have been perfect for me. A shrink might have something to say about that decision. My fingertips brush gently along the petals. I’ll never know if we could have been more, but right now I’m content with that decision.
It’s time I took control of my life.
My to-do list is already set. First step: I need a new place. Somewhere near the Manhattan Bridge, I think. It’s far more family friendly. Dog friendly too.
I check my messages and emails, simply out of habit. A few of the candidates I picked to interview to be my personal assistant emailed me back. There are two of them I really like. I might actually hire both of them. Maybe that’s really the first step. And then finding the perfect place will be step two. A smile plays across my lips and I nod to myself in approval of my “early morning can’t sleep, aha” moment.
Those two tasks are momentous and huge leaps for me. Delegating work and settling down somewhere my child can have deep roots. Resting my hand on my belly, I promise I’ll make it happen. I may have failed to be there for Evan, but for this baby, I’ll do anything. I’ll have it all fixed and ready before this one gets here. He or she will never know this place or all the hell that went on here.
My gaze drifts across the room and the night that started it all plays out in front of my eyes. Suddenly, it hurts. That numbing prick comes back. It’s been happening like that. I’m so sure, so ready to move on … and then I remember. The visions of myself sitting there in the dining room chair like a ghost, drinking wine and wanting to deny it, and at the same time hating Evan because I knew he was lying.
A dreadful breath leaves me, and a sadness weighs down on my chest, but there’s conviction there too.
A new place, a new way of life. My fingers drift to my belly button and then lower. A new life entirely.
Diary Entry Six
Hey Mom, can I take back what I said? I don’t think I want to be alone.