Mrs. Independent: Part Two

Epilogue

Epilogue

My heels hit the sidewalk loudly as I walk down the street in New York City. It's freezing out here and I'm regretting leaving the house this morning. My phone is constantly vibrating and my irritation is starting to show. I drop my phone into my purse, locking my arms around myself.

Josh and I renew our vows a few weeks ago, and everything at home has been lovely.

I was nervous to tell my Mom she's not allowed in my life anymore, but yesterday morning she showed up at my work arguing with me in the lobby where my employees and customers were, accusing me of avoiding her.

I took her up to my office right then and there and told her we were done. I don't deserve the way she's treating me, and not only has she spread her nasty attitude to my family, but now she's bringing it to my work?

I couldn't do it. I told her to go, and then I was too upset to drive home so around nine, I texted Josh and told him I needed time to myself, and then I rented a hotel.

And now I'm doing the most Katherine thing I could possibly do.

I'm ignoring the people who care about me, shutting everyone out, and dumping all of my feelings into my work.

My phone is exploding with messages from family, and my Mom who is pissed, claiming I don't care about her.

And I'm mad. I'm mad I let her get to me, I'm mad I'm letting it affect my family, and I'm mad that I can't get myself to go home and face Josh, who is probably pissed I vanished and worried sick.

I start digging through my purse for my phone, deciding to text Josh back.

Am I ready to talk to him about my Mom? No, but he deserves to have his mind eased.

I feel my hand close around my cell, and just as I start to pull it from my purse, I slam straight into somebody on the sidewalk, stumbling backwards.

Arms dart out to steady me, stopping me from falling. I open my mouth to apologize, but when I look at the person I bumped into, my jaw opens slightly when I see my husband looking back at me.

"Well this feels familiar." he says suddenly, but his tone is more frustrated than it is carefree.

I immediately step out of his reach, looking down at the dirty city sidewalk.

"Do you still want space?" he asks after a moment.

Yes.

"No," I say instead, and then I sigh. Aren't my mind and mouth supposed to be connected? And if they are, why do I have so much trouble connecting them?

I look up at him and realize I was telling him the truth.

I don't want space. I don't want to be alone.

I find myself stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his waist.

He hugs me back, and I'm not sure how long we stand there like that, but eventually I pull away.

He reaches out and brushes his thumb across my cheeks and I realize I was crying.

"The kids-" I start

"They think you're on a business trip." he says softly. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Well I am." he shrugs.

He takes my hand and begins to walk with me.

"I'm okay, really," I tell him. "I don't need help."