Page 25 of My So-Called Perfect Life
“I know, but you never know, he might try to call you from a different number. Doesn’t seem like he has two working brain cells to rub together anymore so he probably wouldn’t get the hint or even realize he’s been blocked”
My shoulder hitches. “He hasn’t tried that yet. I think the trip to jail and the threat of a restraining order scared him from doing anything else”
Thank God for small miracles. All I want is a clean break. Or as clean as I could get from a man I’d spent six years of my life with.
So many places and things have memories involving Scott. I just have to move forward with my life without him. It’s been almost two weeks, and while it hurts whenever I think about things, it doesn’t feel as though the sky is about to drop anymore. The fact that Scott isn’t who I thought he was is probably what is making it all a bit easier to digest. It’s more a blessing than something to be sad about now. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone like Scott.
“Shouldn’t this have hurt more?” I say to Mercy as my eyes dart around the area, scanning the children.
“What do you mean?”
“Scott was supposed to betheone. Shouldn’t I be devastated? Shouldn’t I still be glued to my bed with Netflix and gallons of Rocky Road? If he was really the love of my life, why have I been able to move on so quickly? Did I really get this so wrong?”
Mercy shrugs her shoulder. “I don’t know, honestly. Maybe you dodged a bullet. You’ve spent all of your adult life with Scott, so maybe what happened was a blessing in disguise. It would’ve been horrible to find out about him and Mandy after you guys were married.”
“True,” I reply. “The part that’s getting to me most is that I’m starting over. I was ready for this new phase of my life. I was looking forward to marriage and kids, but now I’m back to square one.”
“Honey,” she says, gripping my hand in hers, “you’re twenty-seven. Your life is just beginning. You’ve got plenty of time to start over when you find the right person.”
“I know,” I sigh as I finish the rest of my water.
We sit and watch the teenage counselors-in-training play with the different groups of kids. I just need to focus on my job right now. I love my jobs. Working with kids has always been my passion. It fulfills some deep-seated want to be needed, to make a difference.
A pain spikes in my lower regions, and the sudden urge to pee hits me like a Mack truck. This is the second time this morning I’ve felt like this.
“Crap,” I mutter low.
“What?” Mercy asks.
“I think I might have a UTI. Or getting one.”
“Oh, man, really? Those are the worst.”
I pick up my walkie-talkie and call for Renee, my assistant head counselor.
“What’s up, Danielle?”
“I’m heading to the restroom. I’ll be back in a few. You okay out here?”
I spot her across the schoolyard, and she gives me a thumbs-up.
“Yep, go ahead. I’m going to take my break when you get back.” One of us has to be present with the children at all times.
“All right.”
Mercy and I head inside to the faculty restroom, and it feels like a thousand razor blades leaving my body as I pee.
“Holy shit!”
The pain is intense and burning.
“You okay?” Mercy calls out.
“No,” I cry out while I try to squeeze my muscles to stop myself, but I can’t because the urge to keep going wins. “It feels like I’m peeing fire, and I need it to stop. Holy cow.”
“Sounds like you definitely have a UTI. That sucks. I’m sorry.”
This is the last thing I need right now. Haven’t I suffered enough these last two weeks?
