Author's note: Here's a new story. The start of my novel? Idk. Enjoy. Please review.
Upon the many things that life brings, a break up seemed to be the end of the world when I was younger. I had never felt anything like that. I couldn't breathe, it seemed. Quite clearly, I see now that of course I could breathe and I could live. I didn't need that person to survive. I realize this probably isn't the best way to start my story, eh? I was never good at starting anything and lately, I was terrible at finishing things. I've just been very bad at things, lately. Relationships, business and everyday routines were beginning to get difficult. It was that teenage heartbreak, I'd say, except it was worse because I had built a life with this woman. To be fair, she was my wife. I had to build my life around her. We both each had to compromise. I had to give up certain desires to become her wife and she had to do the same.
When I met Emy, I was really young and naïve. I had dreams to become this huge screenplay writer. I was that kid who'd sit in Starbucks with my laptop and just type away. A total hipster tool. I was pathetic but something about that caught Emy's eye. I guess it was that whole image, something about that attracted other hipster douchebags. I was 22 years old and I had moved to Los Angeles in hopes to make it big. She sat across from me at Starbucks and I had somewhat embodied this loner thing where I never ever wanted to talk to anyone. I just wanted to write and read and that is all.
The girl leaned forward, "Whatcha writing?" she says to me and bites her lip. I peer up at her, stopping my feverous typing. "A screenplay." I tell her, briefly and begin typing away again. She nods slowly and sips her passiontea. She looks around and looks back at me. She's smiling at me and I can feel it. She digs into her bag and grabs out a sketch book. She just began drawing and we sat in silence for quite some time. I closed my laptop after a bit and looked down at what she'd been drawing. I peered at the off white sketch pad and saw myself. She'd been drawing me. I looked pretty, actually and I felt very attractive. I blushed and smiled up at her. The girl had drawn me with beautiful vibrant eyes and short hair, the long fringe of my bangs curls gracefully. The shadowing compliments my high and sharp cheekbones and I grin up at her. "That's me." I state, astonished. She nods, "Now… It needs a title, so just uh… write your name and number?" She asks and passes the sketch book to me. I chuckle and do as she's told me to do. "Thanks, Sara. I'm Emily." She beams up at me. I smile and stand up, holding my bag. "I'll give you a call." She says and I nod to her, grabbing my coffee and walking out.
She had called me a few days after and asked me out to dinner. Soon, we were dating. Unfortunetly, ten years later, we were filed for divorce and a custody battle. I thought that Emy and I would have a nice and mutual break up- shared custody and an easy divorce. Turns out, Emy never agreed with my parenting and she thinks that I'm an unfit mother. I'm a god damned good mother, I'll tell you that. I was who supported that family. I got rid of that stupid screenwriting idea and opened a business and I did pretty damn good. Emy stuck with the artist thing and well, she was successful. I couldn't deny that.
At 32 years old, my life seemed to finally collapse. My wife and I had split, mutually agreeing that we no longer had the same feelings about each other. I was in court, battling for custody of my eight year old child. Emy was the one moving out of our house. It was the cutest little flat, three bedrooms. One of the rooms had turned into my office and Emy used the garage as her studio. We had our place and it was all fit and nice. I loved it. I loved our family. Emy didn't like me wearing the pants, so to speak and well… I didn't like that she didn't like it. Our relationship was toxic. She wanted something mutual and I couldn't do that.
I sit in my office with my face in my hands. I'm deliberately stressed out. I've got bills to pay and I'm paying Emy. She moved out about three weeks ago and it's been hell for our daughter. Speaking of the little angel, Harlow pokes her head in the doorway of my office and smiles.
"Mommy, it's time for dance practice." Harlow tells me, moving her way into my office to show me that she's already in her leotard and ready. I chuckle and stand up, moving to her as she hands me a ponytail. I tie up her hair in a tight bun and grasp her little hand. I walk her to the kitchen and let go of her hand.
I reach for my keys and wallet, running my fingers through my hair. "C'mon." I say to Harlow and walk out the door.
Harlow's dance teacher waves to me and I tell her that Emy's going to be the one to pick her up. I've actually been looking forward to the alone time that I'll gain with Harlow in Emy's custody. I haven't had time alone in what seems like forever. Once I get home, I immediately have a glass of wine and take a nice bath. It's big and elaborate with candles and bubbles and music. I feel so relaxed and at peace with myself. That's when the phone rings and I almost let it go to voice mail. I get out of the bath and put on a towel, rushing to answer the phone.
"Hello?" I answer and sit at the counter.
"Mommy?" I hear Harlow and she sounds extremely worried. I head to my bedroom and get dressed, quickly.
I ask her, "What is it, honey?" I hurry out the door when she says that Emy still hasn't arrived. She's been there for half an hour. As soon as I get to the studio, Harlow rushes into my arms.
Abigal, Harlow's dance teacher, tells me that she's been calling Emy for quite some time. I'm extremely worried because this wouldn't look good on the case so I know Emy's in trouble. I drive Harlow back home and let her watch TV while I try to reach Emy or anyone that would be with her. No luck with anything.
I sit down with Harlow for quite some time before the phone rings. "Hold on, honey." I say and stand up to get the phone. "Hello?" I greet the caller as I lean against the doorway of my bedroom.
"Are you Sara Myers?" I hear the other line. I'm extremely worried, though this could be anyone. It's probably a bill collector or something. I sit down on my bed and sigh heavily,
"Yes, this is Sara Myers." I reply and look up at the wedding picture of me and Emy hanging on the wall. The glass of the frame was shattered from a fight we had.
"You are Emily Myers wife?" The next question worries me even more. I swallow the lump in my throat before I answer.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry to inform you but Emily has been killed in a fatal car crash. She was killed on impact." My heart drops as I receive the chilling news. I slide to the floor and begin sobbing. I have no idea what to do. My life's falling apart; I have nothing to hold me together. What's the point? My ex-wife's been killed.
My throat closes and my heart beat is all I can hear. I can faintly hear the screaming. I keep screaming no. I hang up the phone and cry, cuddling with myself on the floor. How could she be gone…? How the fuck did this happen…? To my ex-wife, why did she deserve it?
Harlow is asking me what's wrong, but I can't think. I can't say anything. I just hold her and cry. That's all I can do. I can't do anything. I can't.
"Open your eyes." I hear her say as I sit on the bed. I open my eyes and all I can see is her smiling face. She backs up and now I can see what she's having me do. I'm sitting on a couch and she has an ease set up with oil paints. They're my favorite of all Emy's paints. I grin. "What are you doing?" I ask her as she sits next to me. She brushes her hair out of my face and smiles. "Take your clothes off." She whispers, smiling. I blush, "A nude painting…?" I'm hesitant but eventually, I strip my clothing. Emy smiles and smudges a bit of oils on my face. I've got a bit of coal black on my cheek and I'm smiling. Emy's smile is enough to make me feel extremely confident. She's admiring my body and she always draws me perfectly. She creates me and she loves that.
I sit at this spot for hours before she's finished. She kisses me sweetly when she finishes and takes my hand in hers. I've got the biggest grin on my face and she's ushering me down. She climbs on top of me and kisses me over and over. The kiss gets heated fast and my hands and in her shirt. She kisses me harder and starts taking off her clothing so we're even. By the time we've finished making love, we've got paint all over us, so we gratefully take a shower. "You're beautiful." She says to me, pushing my fringe behind my ear. I giggle and kiss her sweetly. "You're exquisite."
Three weeks later.
Imagine that I'd be a single mother. God, who would've thought… It's so scary. I mean, we were divorcing but ever since Emy's death, I've been taking advantage of having Harlow there. I don't let her see me cry, but she cries every night. I try my hardest not to cry. I've taken that shameful moment to the shower.
"Mommy?" Harlow calls me from the living room. I walk in there with two plates for dinner. I set them down and sit next to Harlow, on the floor.
"Yes, honey?" I reply and dig into my mashed potatoes. They came from KFC; I haven't had time to cook. I've tried to distract myself with work but it's difficult because Emy had helped design everything. My life revolved around her and no one else. Well… Harlow, but romantically, I hadn't slept with anyone besides Emy for the past ten years. I didn't want to feel lonely so I drowned myself in work.
"My teacher wants you to come to open house." She says to me while chewing into a chicken leg. I chuckle and drink a bit of my beer. I bought Harlow the root beer in the glass bottles so she feels more important.
"Oh, when is that?" I ask her and she turns to me. I take a spoonful of mashed potatoes in my mouth and eat it.
"Tomorrow night." She tells me and I agree because I've got no distractions for tomorrow.
Author's end note: Sorry that went by fast.