Page 42 of Chasing the Flame
I sat in my car and cried for thirty minutes after the appointment. It felt like I was watching my dream blow up in smoke right before my eyes. Two years into our marriage, that pain turned into gratitude.
I couldn’t imagine having a baby with such a monster.
The thought smacks me in the face, a reminder that my life turned out completely different from what I imagined. So, I leave the empty bedrooms, walk down the hall, and grab my things off the dresser.
As I walk back down the hallway, I close the spare bedroom door, leaving the pain I’ve buried behind.
Tonia’s Nail & Hair Salon Emporium is quite charming. It reminds me of a glammed-up Barbie salon. There’s pink everywhere. I mean literally everywhere—the salon chairs, the lampshades, and the feather boas used as garland. Even the owner is wearing a pink smock and fuzzy heels, which, yes, you guessed it—are pink.
The atmosphere, though? It’s top-tier, and this is probably the best experience I’ve ever had. Lucy is seated next to me at her nail tech’s table. I’ve always had great nails, so I’ve never needed to get acrylics, opting for dip powder instead. While I wait, Lucy and I chat. Much to my surprise, she asks about my mother, my writing, and even Luke.
“What do you think about living here?”
“It’s nice,” I say, not meeting her gaze. “The house is beautiful, and I like being by the water. It’s a peaceful spot.”
“Yeah, small town Liberty will do that to ya. It’s hard not to fall in love with the water.” She smiles at me and says, “What about your husband? How does he like it?”
“Luke was the one who wanted to move here. I’d say he’s happy. He travels a lot for work, so I barely see him.” I shrug, feigning indifference when in reality it’s a sore topic. Learning that he’s cheating on me doesn’t help either.
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, eyeing me cautiously. Then, she asks a question that makes me choke on the mimosa Sheila had given me several minutes before. “Are you happy?”
Her boldness surprises me, and I struggle for several minutes to answer honestly. When the truth hits me in the face, I suck in a sharp breath. I’m not happy, and I don’t think I have been for a long time. “No,” I whisper. “No, I don’t think I am.”
She gives me a knowing look and reaches out to me with her free hand. She gently squeezes my hand and looks me square in the eyes. “Life is too fucking short for anyone to be unhappy. Least of all, a gorgeous and kind woman like you.”
Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, and I jerk my head away, wincing a little at the hurt expression on her face. “How’d you know?” I ask quietly.
“Well, as far as I knew, Jettson wasn’t dating anyone. Then, you showed up, and the two of you looked awfully cozy together. Though Elliot swore you weren’t Jettson’s girlfriend.” She pauses, glancing at me, and shrugs her shoulders. “I put two and two together when he mentioned his brother Don. Never liked that man.”
Her nose crinkles in disgust, and she shivers. “Something about him always puts me on edge. Elliot says Luke is a lot like his father, so it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.”
I bite my bottom lip, wondering how much I should say. Since Luke’s behavior shifted, I’ve lost all my friends in New York. They all told me to leave him, and said it wouldn’t ever get better. I wish I hadlistened, because they were right. With Lucy sitting in front of me, her kind eyes shining with encouragement, I feel I can trust her.
“It’s been…hard,” I start, trying to find the words to convey my feelings, but not wanting to divulge too much information in front of the nail tech. “He wasn’t always so cold and distant. Or jealous for that matter.” I sigh, my chin wobbling a little. “Lately, he’s been socruel, and truthfully? I’m tired of it. I’m tired of feeling this way.”
Lucy’s eyes shine with empathy, and she squeezes my hand again. “I knew I felt a connection to you,” she says. “It’s hard leaving a situation like this, one that has you believing you’re broken…that you’re unworthy. That’s not the case, though. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You can change your destiny and deserve something better than your current one. Trust me, I know exactly where you are. I’ve been there before. Don’t stand in your own way. It just blocks your blessings and happiness.”
Tears spill down my cheeks, and Lucy gives my hand another reassuring squeeze. All I can manage is, “Thank you.” My voice is thick with years of grief and unshed pain that I’ve held onto tightly.
Like an anchor, I’ve allowed it to root me into place, keeping me complacent and preventing me from truly growing. I’ve let Luke’s expectations supersede my wants and needs. With Lucy’s encouragement, I finally see the path I need to take.
It’s time for me to be happy, no matter what that looks like. If that means I leave Luke, starting over fresh…then so be it. So, as we finish up at the salon, I mull over everything she’s said to me. A decision solidifies in my mind, one that sends a ripple of anxiety through me.
But first, I need to make some phone calls. So, as we part ways, I promise to call her later this week, and we make plans for a lunch date on Friday. With a hug and a promise to call if I need anything, I leave the salon behind.
Lucy’s words have struck a chord deep within my soul, and I can’t shake the feeling of foreboding that coils in my gut. Everything’s about to change…I just hope it’s finally for the better.
When I get home, I piddle around in the kitchen. I’m stress cleaning and, if I’m being honest, procrastinating. Something has me hesitating to pick up my phone and call my mother. I can’t explain my feelings, but whatever it is…it has me in its grip.
Anxiety has been my constant companion since I’ve walked through the front door. I have this uncanny feeling I’m being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck have stood on end for over an hour now, my spine prickling with uneasiness.
In the end, fate decides for me. My mother's picture pops up on my phone, the ringer blaring in the dead silence. With a sigh, I answer. “Hi Mom, I was just about to call you.”
She chuckles and says, “Uh-huh, I’m sure. How’s your day been, sweetie?”
“Uhm, not too bad. I went into town earlier and had my nails done. Now I’m cleaning,” I chuckle. “Real exciting stuff. What about you?”
She pauses for a beat, and I hear rustling in the background. “It’s not been too bad, I’m going through some of your father’s things.” Mom sniffles, and my heart strings tug painfully. “It’s time, I think.”
