Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,28
most minor memory, then we’re on the right track. How does that sound to you?”
Some of the tension releases from my body. The nerves don’t but I really don’t think that feeling will ever fade. “It sounds good,” I reply.
We immediately get to work. As she pulls out a new batch of pictures, I nervously adjust Evelyn in my arms.
Photo number one: It’s of Wes. He’s staring into the lens, brows slightly raised, eyes wide with shock as if someone just called out his name. He’s dressed down in sweats, hair messy. It’s a shock to my system to see Suit-and-Tie Wes so casual. I peer at the surroundings, but they don’t look familiar.
Photo number two: me. My hands are in the air as I smile widely. Behind me is a massive house in the middle of construction. With scaffolding lining the brick. Wes is in the background, standing in the doorway. He stares right into the lens just like I do, but the hatred brewing in his eyes is enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Photo number three: me and Wes together, with our arms wrapped around each other. We’re standing in the entryway of our house. Light curves around us. I can see the boxes lined against the wall inside the house. Wes’s smile is genuine. But mine is not. I look dead behind my eyes.
The process speeds up, just like the first time.
Then, I hear them. The voices. They start out so quietly that it feels like someone’s whispering into my ear. The volume slowly increases and so does the number of voices. I try to block them out; it’s all becoming too much.
Right before my eyes the image of Wes seems to rise from the picture, until he’s standing right in front of me, his face a mask of frozen shock. The room starts to spin. I feel like I’m on a carousel, spinning around and around. Soon everything around me is nothing but one big blur. I see a diaphanous array of lights all around me. Very slowly they are closing in on me.
I hum to block out the past, but it’s stronger than I am. It squeezes past my barriers and hugs me tight. It sucks me down, away from the present, until I transport back into my past….
The last thing I remember is my pleading for the past to be nice to me.
Please, please, be on my side.
May 2013
Our first anniversary snuck up on us like a thief.
One second we’re walking down the aisle, going on our honeymoon, and the next we’re in May. If every year of marriage is like this, then we’re golden.
Instead of celebrating with a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant we were staying in. Our townhouse had quickly turned into our cozy getaway from the stress of work and life.
We ordered Chinese takeout. The small boxes were scattered around the table. This entire week at work had been brutal. Likewise for Wes. The only thing that kept me upbeat was knowing our anniversary was waiting for us that weekend. The two of us were wearing sweats. The atmosphere was laid-back and casual and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Goals for this year?” I asked.
Wes leaned back in his chair. “Make partner.”
“Of course, of course.” I finished the last of the orange chicken and pushed the box aside. “Anything else?”
“To always be happy. With you.” He took a drink, tilted his glass in my direction, and gave me a cheesy wink. “What about you?”
My throat suddenly became dry. Without a doubt we were happy. Every day I seemed to love him more and more. I wanted to extend that love. I wanted to start a family. How Wes felt about starting a family remained to be seen. In the beginning of our engagement, kids were brought up, but always in the distant future. For me, the distant future was upon us. For Wes, it might still be years away.
This urge, this desire, didn’t come out of nowhere. It had been brewing in me for months. Every time I saw a mother pushing a baby in a stroller, holding a child’s hand in the grocery store, or watched a mom or dad hold their child’s hand or whisper comforting words in their ear as they got stitches or shots, a part of me cried out for that.
I’d always thought that I would never love anyone else in the world the way I