Foolishly Falling for You

11

Anita

It's sad to be standing in the same place you were 20 years ago, but with more scars and hardly anything to show for it. But it's not enough that I know and it hurts.

Everyone knows.

Most of all, his mother.

His step mother made her presence known as soon as he darked the door. I'm unsure if she hates me because she'd jealous or just because. But her favorite pastime is to to torment me when he's not here.

To his credit, Lance doesn't allow other people to disrespect me, not to his face. Just him.

"You're so fortunate," she says, standing by the entrance. "To marry such a influential man so young."

I bite my tongue. Fortunate. That's an interesting phrase.

"Your son left. He had to report for duty. Is there...something I can do for you?"

She looks around my home. Does she covet it? She's actually newer to this family than I am. Lance and I were betrothed when she came along. She was young. Very young. I think what she envied most is how empty my house is. I've learned young women who marry older men are either taken advantage of, or promised their house will be empty by the time they've reached their prime.

And yet, Alfonso is still around, 80 and if the word around the town square is true, virile, still plaguing her long beyond his expiration date.

"So many girls would give anything for the life you have here and it was just handed to you," she scoffs, her fingers tracing the credenza with our marriage portrait hanging up.

"It wasn't handed to me," I murmur. "I made great sacrifices —"

"Sacrifices?" She scoffs, venom dripping from her every syllable. As if I should know nothing of sacrifice. "What have you ever sacrificed?"

I know everything of sacrifices.

"I have given everything. My life. My childhood, my innocence, my heart I have given everything I have—"

"Oh...you mean that," she nods to my sleeves.

I touch my wrists through the fabric. "I am not speaking of my death. I am speaking of the sacrifice of my life. My whole...life to stand here, and listen to you prattle on unannounced and uninvited."

She gasps, putting her fan in front of her mouth. I suppose she'll do anything but close it. I could say how I hear she fills her mouth with more than harsh words for her daughter in law.

Like pastry's.
And certain young business men in the pastry business.

But unlike her I know how to keep my mouth shut and off young men's cocks, and trait she never developed, it seems. Whether it be pastry chefs or her stepson, who I'm sure she wants. That's what she really comes here to cover after all. We are fairly close in age. If she had a better background, all this could've been hers.

"You'll do we'll to watch your tone. I'm still your mother in law."

I narrow my eyes. "The only person I see is an uninvited guest. A mother in law knows to send word ahead of time. Who's to say who this rude wench may be?"

Her red painted lips turn up, as she's chuckles. "Oh...you've grown a backbone. Now all you have to do is grow a womb and you'll finally be useful," she smiled behind her fan.

I smile, and I think I hear something crack. I glance back to see what it was, and I realize it's something inside me. No one else heard it. No one else will see it. It will just remain broken inside me somewhere, shards stabbing at all of my soft insides.

Her smile falls, and she sets down her fan. She doesn't offer an apology. I wouldn't really take it. I just smile through it. The way you have to. I am smiling but I feel that shard stabbing.

Stabbing.
And it feels like I'm dying.

"I..." she trails. "There are certain things a woman should never say to another woman."

I wonder how I look to her right now. I must look pathetic. I must look like a broken mess. We stand in silence. Why does everyone in this godforsaken line insists on hurting me in every way possible.

At some point, I have to wonder if I deserve it? It's be rather cruel if I didn't, wouldn't it?

"It's okay," I say after a while, turning around. "Would you like tea?"

She nods and follows me into the drawing room. We sit across from each other. I am not sure if I am here. The shard is moving around in my insides, stabbing at every vital, soft, exposed part of my insides. Opening wounds.

Can she see it? It's humiliating.

"Have you any news from the front—"

"I'm sorry about your baby."

I blink. The world feels distorted. I can't think for a moment. My heart is racing like something has jumped out at me. Like I forgot. It's sudden and scary. I shake my head and smile.

I can't say anything.

"I'm sorry, I...that was rude wasn't it? I don't mean to be so foward—"

This shard has broken on my bones, and splintered spearing every part of me.

"I know we aren't close but—"

Clink.

"I am...very fine. Thank you for your concern," I force out. My voice does not sound my own. Who is speaking? Is it me? I don't know what's going on right now. What is that sound.

My fingers tremble. Oh...that's my teacup shaking against the saucer. I set it down gingerly.

So sudden. I don't know why I—

She reached out touching my hand. I pull away gently.

"I seem to feeling ill, mother and law. I would hate to make you sick." I hear myself say.

She stands, and nods. "I...I hope you recover, Anita."

She takes her leave and it just me. Like it always is. I flinch. I feel it. The glass moving inside me. I touch my torso. I feel it. It's so real.

That is the one thing I have to leave behind. It was jarring. Like a song suddenly dropping in the middle of the climax, discordant notes playing instead a familiar melody.

I have to let it go. For the future.

I sink to the floor. "I have never had a child. I am fine. I am fine. I am fine. There was never...anything like that." I whisper, rocking myself gently.

I have to bury it. Deep, deep and deeper still if I want to continue. If I want to reach something glorious like the future I must let it go.

And I cannot heal. I cannot afford to grieve.

I have to forget.

I have lived in delusions for decades. I can put myself back. I will put myself back.

And after I have lied to myself, conditioned and punished myself until I can do what needs to be done—I get up, and continue.

For the future.