Her laugh was hysterical. It was a kind of laugh that bespoke of ill intent. It was the kind of laugh that was on the verge of breakdown. It was the kind of laugh that made me figure out why my mom was like that.
My mom was jealous. Of me.
"Moved on?" She mocked, her voice full of venom. "You call, annulling your wedding, moving to a different country, leaving your husband, moving on?" My mom asked, "that's not moving, that's running away, daughter."
I felt Duncan squeeze my shoulder. Giving me strength to do this. To finally face the root of all my fears and anxiety.
My mom.
"Would it be better if I stayed? How many kids do you think I would have if I stayed? Three? Four? Will my body take that toll? Considering that I am a C-section, how much money do you think it would cost each birth of a child? Do you think he could provide for us?" I asked the questions that I knew she would give back to me.