The Only Thing That Matters

Chapter 11

4 YEARS LATER

 I opened the door to my house, trudging in. I placed my bag on the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass and heading for the fridge. I found the wine bottle I had placed in there the night before, pouring the content into the glass. Placing the wine back in the fridge, I picked up the cup and drank it.

 I come home everyday, at the same exact time and it still doesn’t change anything. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the lonely feeling out of my house. My daughter wasn’t running around, screaming at the top of her lungs. She wasn’t laughing and excited as I walked through the door. She wasn’t any of these things because she wasn’t here. It hurt everyday knowing I wasn’t going to come home to my cheery daughter.

 I also wasn’t going to come home to Anthony.

 We had fused are relationship two years ago, settling on friends. A part of me wondered if Anthony even wanted to be something more again. He apologized for what he had done to me, sure, but I didn’t know if he even thought about us anymore. Then again, I didn’t know if I wanted us to be us again.

 The day he walked out on me brought back so many memories from back in college. It was like the same thing all over again. I found myself, cuddled up in Kayden’s bed, crying my heart out because I was all alone. I didn’t have my daughter and I didn’t have someone to come home to and be comforted by. From then on, I vowed never to let a guy into my life to hurt me again. Three strikes and you’re out. I was already on strike number two. I didn’t even want to think about how destroyed I would be if that ever happened again. So, yes, the majority of my heart claimed I didn’t need Anthony anymore. I was doing well on my own, even if I did wine up a little lonely.

 I saw my mother every now and then. I was slowly slipping back into my old habits. I’d go over every six months to show up for the major holidays, but then I’d stay home and wouldn’t contact them. If someone called me, I’d let it go to voicemail and then delete the message. I couldn’t look at them. I couldn’t walk around the house knowing that they blamed me for losing my daughter. Hell, I blamed myself.

 If I had just tried a little harder, pushed myself a little further, then maybe my daughter would be here, with me and I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of not seeing her.

 I haven’t talked to my daughter since the day she left. It hurt me tremendously to not get to talk to her. I wouldn’t be able to help her out with all her problems that would be emerging in her preteen to teenage years. I didn’t see her ever unless it was on the cover of a magazine or on ESPN, when Blake’s team would be playing and the camera would flash to Kayden.

 If I was anyone else, I would think she was as happy as could be. But I knew my daughter. We had this mother-daughter secret bond that no one could replace. I knew when she was upset, when she was angry. When the camera would flash to her, I would see that fake smile, the smile she wore best whenever she was in public. However, underneath it all, she wasn’t happy. I could tell there was something in her that didn’t enjoy where she was. Then again, it could be the loneliness in me.

 I grabbed my glass and headed for the couch. I plopped myself down and grabbed a magazine off the end table. On the front cover was my daughter, plastered in her father’s team’s apparel. I smiled, resting my fingers over her face.