Echo of a Bird's Cry

THE SURVIVOR EMILY JUNE 10

                                                                  SIX MONTHS LATER

I'm eight months pregnant. I don't walk. I waddle. And that's exactly what I do as I make my way down to the shore. My bare feet sinks into powdery warm sand as foamy waves break against my ankles. I shield my eyes from the furious yellow ball of sunshine and watch Abel effortlessly glide along a big wave like a sea god. His dreadlocks sway in the wind and he has the biggest smile. I cheer him on and almost topple over. David and Mary come running in their flip-flops, holding onto their floppy hats. They each grab my elbow and carry me back to the lounge chair under the umbrella. I laugh as they fuss at me for doing too much. Mary slathers me in coconut scented sunscreen and David hands me a peach flavored Popsicle from the cooler. This California weather is nothing to play with but it feels good to be surrounded by the people I love. Abel swims to the shore. He tosses his surfboard and jogs to me. I stare in bewilderment at how gorgeous this man is. He shakes saltwater from his dreadlocks, the copper jewelry glinting in his hair. Pearls of water cling to his broad chest, causing his honey brown skin to glisten. But my gaze drops to his brightly colored board shorts. They're yellow and covered in toucans. A gift from his father. Abel kisses the laugh right out of me.

I don't ponder much on the past. I'm fully living in the moment. I've learned life isn't guaranteed. I choose to surround myself with people I love. I choose to fully immerse myself in the present. I do think about Ashely from time to time. I would be lying if I say it doesn't hurt. It does. But I also think about how miserable she had to be. She was pretending to be my friend. Ashely was living a double life. Five years is a long time pretending to be someone's friend. She must've secretly despised me. She hid it well. I never doubted our friendship. She seemed genuine. Ashely was dedicated to her vengeance. I feel sorry for her. I can't imagine the torture of that. But I don't allow myself to get stuck in that dreadful place of doubt and insecurity. I'm in love with the man of my dreams. We are stable. We are strong. I finally have a family of my own and a place where I'm safe, protected, and loved.

I am loved.

There's nothing more I could ask for.