Page 1 of Enough
I HAVE THIS feeling in my chest. It’s hard to describe. There’s motion all around me, and for a moment I feel a little dizzy. An older man with silver hair staggers past me with a box of bran flakes and a couple of microwave meals in his cart. He briefly raises his eyes to mine before he lowers them again. I feel sad for him and wonder if he’s alone. Then I remember that I am, too.
An angry beanstalk of a woman with her hair in a braid pushes past me to grab something from behind me. I’m in the way. I try to move for her, but she huffs loudly and gives me an evil glare. I know I shouldn’t just be standing here, but my feet don’t want to move.
See, a few moments ago I realized I’m not happy. It’s not a new thought; it’s just become a lot stronger in this moment than it’s been over the past ten years. It’s more than just not being happy. It’s this feeling of emptiness. That feeling creates an ache—no, a pain—in my chest that seems to radiate through my shoulders, into my neck and brain, before it circles back around again in a constant flow. A young couple laughs as they stride past me, shopping together. I give them a slight smile as they glance at my overflowing cart and their eyesbulge. Yeah, I know I buy a lot, but dammit, this is two weeks’ worth of food and I have a growing son and daughter to think about.
The ache is back as he leans down and kisses the side of her head. My eyes close as I try to summon a breath. I attempt to remember a time when someone felt that way about me, but I can’t. A slender woman in a tailored suit and heels struts past me. I take a peek into her cart: strawberries and wine. I chuckle to myself until I see the big-ass rock and wedding band on her hand and realize she’s married too. My mouth waters for a glass of wine. I can’t remember the last time I had a grown-up drink, let alone had a reason to dress up. My head drops as I suddenly feel uncomfortable in my yoga pants, oversized sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. I must look like a frumpy loser to everyone around me. This sucks. I suck. I should have gotten up earlier and put my make-up on before I drove the kids to school, but I was so tired, I just couldn’t pull myself out of bed.
My phone buzzes and a brief smile lifts the corner of my mouth. It’s my best friend, Gwen, with her standard check-in. I tighten my slipping ponytail as I scan her text.
Gwen:What’s up, chica?
I release a deep breath and write her back.
Everly:I’m in Walton’s.
There’s a pause. I know she’s at work and I’m slightly jealous.
Gwen:You mean you’re in Hell?
I can’t help but laugh. I swear if it weren’t for Gwen, I wouldn’t make it through the day.
Gwen:How about we get a movie and order a pizza tonight?
I sigh and close my eyes. If only.
Everly:Can’t. Mike’s working late, Kale has karate, and Marlow has soccer.
Gwen:Jeez, do you ever get a break?
My fingers press into my forehead and pulse over the throb in my brain. A strikingly handsome man assesses me from my head to my feet. I know he’s staring in horror. What else could it be with the way I’m dressed? After realizing I only have an hour until the kids are home from school, I decide to put an end to my freak-out moment and get my ass moving. I stuff my phone back into my purse. Gwen already knows the answer to her question. I don’t need to tell her. The answer is no. No, I don’t get a break. If you asked my husband, he’d tell you my whole life has been a break, but he’s also not the one taking care of everything at home.
As I push my cart down the paper aisle, I reach for the paper plates and toilet paper and stuff them in the only available space in the bottom of the cart. My mind quickly rushes over the last ten years and I feel the ache return in my chest.How did I get here? How in the hell is this my life?
Ten years earlier
“YOU’RE PREGNANT? ARE you sure?” he asks warily.
Although I’m still in shock and rubbing my sweaty hands on my suddenly cold arms, I manage a reply. “I’m sure. I took three tests.”
“And you’re sure it’s mine?”
I close my eyes and feel a sudden disgust for Mike I’ve never felt before. We’ve been dating for a year and I’ve never seen him act this way. “How can you possibly ask me that? Of course I’m sure it’s yours. What kind of question is that?”
His breathing is ragged and his eyes are larger than I’ve ever seen them. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to say.”
I get the not expecting it part. It wasn’t my plan either. I’m an unmarried, twenty-year-old college girl with two years left before I complete my degree in nursing.A baby? What are we going to do?I roll my hands over my shoulders. I feel like I’m going to barf. It’s not from being pregnant, I don’t think. It’s most likely because I’m scared out of my mind. Mike mustsee the distance in my expression. He stares at me as my eyes close tightly and I try to think how we could have been so stupid as to not use protection. One time. The one time I think it will be okay.I’m so dumb!
“What are you going to do?” he asks me.
I tilt my head and glare at him. Did he just say what I think he said? I hope he can feel my anger as I roar my response. “You mean, what arewegoing to do?”
He lifts his eyes to me. “Yeah, we. That’s what I meant. We.”
I stumble past him and slowly slide down on the sofa in his off-campus apartment. I’m really glad his roommate isn’t home. “I don’t know…” I respond shakily.
His lips purse as he expectantly stands next to me with his hands on his hips. I’m staring at his waist and feeling a sudden urge to punch his dick. Not only for getting me pregnant, but also just because it’s the name I want to call him for his behavior since I broke the news to him.
“Should we get rid of it?” he asks unemotionally.
