Imperfect

F O U R T E E N - A B I G A L E M U L L I N S

Getting out of the driver's side of my car, I locked the door, putting my keys into my pocket, as I walked towards my house's door.

I was tired, I was exhausted, I was sad, but I was also bored.

  Being a housewife, doing nothing, but sitting around; I quit my job so that I could help Lawrence's mother around the house while he worked to support us.

Mrs. Mullins came downstairs with a limp, feeling awful, and still mourning the loss of her husband.

"Good morning Abigale..." Maggie told me as she made her way downstairs finally.

She seemed like something was on her mind and needed someone to talk to. So, I put my evil spirit to the side and finally talked to her, supportively.

"Is everything alright, Mrs. Mullins?" I asked her, as I sought down on the couch in the living room.

She looked at me, she was shocked, she couldn't believe her ears NOR her eyes.

"Are you talking to me?" she asked me, shocked.

"Of course," I said with a smile, "who else would I be talking to?"

"Sorry if I seemed shocked to you," Lawrence's mother apologized to me as she walked over into the living room, sitting on the couch beside me, "but you haven't been the nicest to me ever since my son moved me in with you two..."

"I know," I explained and apologized to her, "and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I was just going through a lot... So, what is wrong with you?"

"The same as it's always been," she admitted, "my husband. I've been with him for so long and I miss him..."

"If I haven't told you—and I know it's a little too late for that, but I'm really sorry about your loss..."

"It's alright," she said as she suspiciously began looking at me, "are you alright dear?"

I couldn't help myself, but tears fell from my eyes as she asked if I was alright.

I needed someone to talk to, but I had no one to talk to. But, when the woman that I hated the most asked if I was alright, that really brought me to tears.

The person that I least expected to ask me on how I was doing would've been Maggie Mullins herself, but WOW, things sure do change—I guess...

  I would've never thought that I would ever see the day that Maggie Mullins would ask me on how I was feeling.

But, honestly, I was happy and thankful that Maggie asked that, because I didn't want all of this sadness building up inside of me.

"So," I explained to my husband's mother, as I wiped the tears from my face, "I met up with the girl that Lawrence was seeing during our relationship before we got married... She tells me that she is pregnant with his baby..."

"Is she telling the truth?" Maggie asked...

"I think she is," I continued, "I don't too much believe everybody, but for some odd reason, I believe her... I hated what she said at the wedding so much, that I messed up..."

Maggie looked at me, concerned, rubbing my back in comfort, "What do you mean that you messed up?"

I rocked my body on the couch back and forth, terribly afraid to tell her the truth about what happened during the wedding...

"I'm so ashamed," I cried as I continued rocking back and forth, "I'm afraid that Lawrence would never forgive me..."

She continued to pat my back, calming me down, "Tell me, it's better to get things off of your chest than to let them stay on your chest..."

I took a deep breath; I looked at Maggie in her face, with an upset look. I began shaking my head, in disappointment—hating what I did...

"I slept with my ex in the bathroom after we got married..."

Maggie didn't speak for a second, she looked away from me—she looked disappointed...

"Did you tell him?" she asked...

"No," I cried, "I didn't tell him..."

"You should," she admitted, "do it before it's too late, before it gets unbearable to hold inside--before it takes control of you..."

I cried on Maggie's lap, needing someone to lean on, someone that I could cry to and not judge me for a moment.

"I can't," I got up from her lap, looking her in her face, "I can't... He would be so heartbroken about what I've done to him. I don't want to do that to him..."

"Okay," she patted me on the back, "here's the deal... I'll write a letter to my dead husband, if you write a letter to your husband about the wrong doings that you did."

"Why are you writing a note?" I questioned her.

"I miss my husband," she said, "I miss him dearly... I want to see him; I want to be with him. If you would've talked to me, you would've known how bad I suffered here. I cried myself to sleep many times and the only people to notice it was my son and my own sister. If it wasn't for them, I don't think I would've made it. But honestly, I don't think I can still make it."

It began with me crying, but it ended with Maggie crying herself. I held on her tightly as she cried on my shoulders, into my clothes, missing and wanting to be with her husband once again as before.