katrinamarie's review
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The streets of Asheville are bustling. People are walking down the street staring into shop windows as if they don’t have a care in the world. I wish I could say the same. I wish guilt didn’t eat away at me, especially now, as I watch Tonya and Reaf walking down the sidewalk holding hands.
That should be me. I should be the one with my arms wrapped around Tonya and focusing on our baby girl. But...she chose him. I can understand why, but it doesn’t stop the jealousy from bubbling up in my gut. It doesn’t keep the anger from rising to the surface. I knew what I would see if I came home from school, but I still decided to come back and torture myself by watching them together. Asheville is a small town, and there’s no way I would be able to avoid them completely.
Tonya and Reaf stroll down Main Street, glancing through shop windows, pushing a stroller in front of them. A stroller that holds my child. My beautiful baby girl, Layla. I really don’t have any right to call her mine. I mean, she is biologically, but I haven’t been here for her or Tonya. At least, not in any way that put me in a good light. I gave up that right when I asked Tonya to give me time to adjust to the knowledge that I have a child.
The streets of Asheville are bustling. People are walking down the street staring into shop windows as if they don’t have a care in the world. I wish I could say the same. I wish guilt didn’t eat away at me, especially now, as I watch Tonya and Reaf walking down the sidewalk holding hands.
That should be me. I should be the one with my arms wrapped around Tonya and focusing on our baby girl. But...she chose him. I can understand why, but it doesn’t stop the jealousy from bubbling up in my gut. It doesn’t keep the anger from rising to the surface. I knew what I would see if I came home from school, but I still decided to come back and torture myself by watching them together. Asheville is a small town, and there’s no way I would be able to avoid them completely.
Tonya and Reaf stroll down Main Street, glancing through shop windows, pushing a stroller in front of them. A stroller that holds my child. My beautiful baby girl, Layla. I really don’t have any right to call her mine. I mean, she is biologically, but I haven’t been here for her or Tonya. At least, not in any way that put me in a good light. I gave up that right when I asked Tonya to give me time to adjust to the knowledge that I have a child.
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