Dawn and I walk hand-in-hand around Marietta Square, appreciating the quiet, cold night as we look idly for a restaurant to eat dinner at. A group of carolers pass us by, their harmony drifting into the crisp air.
Dawn clutches my arm as the wind begins to pick up, her body shivering from the breeze.
"How about tacos?" I suggest casually. We're coming up to Taqueria Tsunami, an Asian fusion restaurant with Avocado Egg Rolls that are to die for.
Dawn scrunches her nose, but then agrees, wanting to get out of the cold and into somewhere warm and cozy.
We slide into a booth and the waiter, a college boy named Eli, brings us menus and two glasses of water. The restaurant is barren; the only people in it are us and one other couple near the back.
"I think I want the taco platter," I say after a minute of silence.
"Chris. I know what you're doing," Dawn states, pinching her straw between her fingers and taking a sip of her water.
I give her a quizzical look.
"Um, I'm just really hungry..." I say slowly, confused.
Dawn rolls her eyes.
"Do you think I'm completely clueless?" She waits for an answer.
"No?" My reply comes out as a question. I wish she would just say what she means.
"Chris. You've been checked out since mid-October. We haven't even had a real conversation about where this is going," she says, her voice full of exasperation and concern.
Where the fuck did that come from? I thought we were enjoying our time together. For the past month and a half, we've been with each other almost every day. What more could she want?
I'll admit, I haven't been as emotionally invested as I could be. But that's due to the fact that I just don't see Dawn in the same light I used to when we were married.
There's just too much history, and bad memories.
But instead of saying what's actually on my mind, I shrug my shoulders and reply with an "okay".
That seems to make her even more mad, but she holds her tongue, not wanting to cause a scene in the tiny restaurant, for which I'm grateful.
I know that when we get back to my place, she'll let it rip.
I mentally cringe at the sleepless night that's bound to come.
"Do you know what you want yet?" The waiter asks, returning to our table with a small notepad and pen.
No, Eli. I'm afraid I don't know what I want.
***
The back of my hand caresses her cheek, an innocent smile adorning her face as I do so. I grin back, and reach down with my other hand to rub her swollen belly.
She giggles in my ear, whispering I love you's over and over, but when I look up her face isn't there.
A child with light, brown hair and haunting blue eyes stares at me instead. I can't tell the gender of the child, only that it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I try to walk towards it, but the closer I get, the farther away the child seems to be. Eventually, it disappears altogether.
"Wait!" I call out, but it's too late.
The child is gone.
My alarm blares at six o'clock, jolting me from my nightmare. Breathless, I wipe the sweat that has beaded on my forehead away with the back of my arm.
Dawn and I spent the whole night arguing, about what I couldn't tell you. It was mostly just Dawn yelling, and I would occasionally get a word in. She left around two, and I ended up passing out on my sofa.
Although I'm exhausted both physically and mentally, I force myself to get up and dressed for my workout. The gym has been my only outlet lately to release pent up anger.
No one bothers me there, and it's become a safe space to think.
After getting ready, I fill my hydro flask with water and place an AirPod in each ear. I warm up in my apartment, stretching my arms and legs before starting my workout. I'm still tired, but I know the endorphins will kick in as soon as I get my blood flowing.
Locking my door behind me, I decide to take the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting to get a head start on my cardio routine. I take them two at a time, concentrating on the beat of Logic's song "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind". I reach the gym on the main floor of my building, happy to see that it's empty.
What if your life was under a glass?
And people tried to dig up shit from your past,
And tell you what's good and what's not?
His lyrics seem to be speaking to me directly, and I situate myself on a bench, near the free weights, preparing to do some bicep curls.
My reflection in the mirror faintly resembles that of a madman, but it fuels my motivation as I begin my reps.
After all, I've already put myself through the wringer once before, when I lost something that I loved, and I don't plan on repeating my past mistakes ever again.
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