The Trouble With Goodbye

Chapter Forty-Six

I take my time getting ready.

I still have no idea what I'm going to say at the press conference. As the minutes tick away, the knots in my stomach grow more intense.

I'm torn between several possible futures, and I'm not sure I want any of them. It's too hard. Too uphill. Am I strong enough for this? Am I really ready to face what happened to me?

When I get out of the bathroom, there's a navy dress laid out on my bed. Pearls. Off-white and tan heels. As if it isn't enough that they're planning what I should say, my mother also apparently thinks I'm not capable of choosing my own clothes.

I run my finger along the bodice of the dress. I haven't worn this since high school. I hate this dress. The hem is too long and makes me look like a goodie two-shoes little girl. This is how my mother still sees me and the image makes me sick to my stomach. She still refuses to acknowledge the fact that I've grown up. She refuses to accept that my experiences have changed me.

I wonder if we'll ever be able to sit down and have a real conversation or connect in any real way.

I cross to the closet and stand looking at my clothes for a full ten minutes before I finally choose a black pencil skirt and a simple teal blouse. Instead of pearls, I wear the silver necklace my grandmother gave me before she passed away.

Believe.

The message is a good one for today. Not because I need them to believe my story.

But because I need to believe in myself.