Life After You And Me

Remember to Forget

As the morning mist gently lifts from the iconic Table Mountain, revealing its formidable presence against the canvas of the waking city, Cape Town's district center emerges as a metropolis of cultural fusion and architectural marvels.

I stare at the '09h05' that reads on my Uber's dashboard like it'll change to an hour earlier if I look at it long enough.

A silent grunt slips past my lips as the blaring sounds of the dreadful waterfront traffic fill my ears.

The rush-hour discord roars through the urban canyon, echoing off the concrete walls of the towering skyscrapers. Each passing vehicle contributes to the relentless symphony of irritation.

The shrill honks and grating engine revs meld into an abrasive chorus that seems to pierce the very fabric of the city.

I rock my body gently in an attempt to comfort my 2-year-old who clings onto my chest for dear life.

Zoe is as traumatized as I am at the unkind morning conditions. Her eyes travel in the direction of every single sound she hears and she can't seem to understand why I woke her up so early today.

It'll take some adjusting but I know my baby girl will adapt like the paragon she is. Our life hasn't exactly been the most steady but she's managed to hang in there for me.

I lay a gentle kiss on her forehead as she flashes me a warm smile.

My attention is once again stolen by the persistent symphony of urban chaos. The relentless barrage of honking, rumbling engines, and grinding gears seem to conspire against any semblance of peace, leaving my senses overwhelmed and my mind frayed.

I'm late and it certainly doesn't help that my hearing senses are being barricaded.

I manage to keep my grunt internal this time and then proceed to say to the driver, "we'll get off right here, we're almost there anyway."

I don't wait for him to answer before I exit the vehicle.

I hold Zoe firmly against my chest as I speed walk my way across the traffic and onto the long side pathway.

I'm far from my destination but I couldn't afford to be in the Uber any longer than I already had been.

As if walking through crowds of commuters wasn't punishment enough, the sun beats down relentlessly on my body. Its searing rays cut deeply on me as I turn to shield Zoe from the impact.

I reach my hand over my distressed baby girl so I can take my phone out of my bag. Once I locate the device, I open my emails to confirm the address of my destination.

As I scroll through the message, I hear,

"You must be Isabella?"

I almost correct my intruder as I turn around to face her but I stop myself.

My name is Isabella, but almost nobody calls me that.

Izzy is what I'm commonly known as and Bella is... well, let's not get into that just yet.

Isabella sounds so foreign to me but it's a name that's not dented by my past. It's clean and it bears no consequences.