WORN

by Adriana Law

Ancient Cultures believe the wedding ring should be worn on the third finger of your left hand because the vein in this finger runs directly to your heart. I guess that no longer applies once the heart dies. If there is no life, no hope, or love left coursing through your veins the ring becomes nothing more than a piece of gaudy costume jewelry. Or at least, that is my opinion. I slide the ring off and gently place it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He will find it there, I am certain, even if he is blind to everything else, he will notice the ring and appreciate my returning it. My last kind gesture toward the man I spent over a decade with. The ring was his dead mother’s after all, that alone should have spooked me on the day we said our vows but he had admired and loved his mother so much that I was willing to overlook it as a possible bad omen.

Lifting the duffel off the floor I place the strap over a shoulder. The bag is lighter than expected, containing everything I will need for the next couple of months. How much does one need when starting over? I stop by the door to our daughter’s room; nothing has changed in two years except the accumulation of dust. The toes of my running shoes never cross the threshold. Her favorite bunny is propped against lavender pillows, perfectly placed from the last time I made her bed. Early morning light pushes its way in through the closed blinds, touching and caressing the white fur and floppy ears. My heart aches. The stupid old rabbit spent more time in her arms then I had. I swear its smile has turned into a smirk.

The duffle bag and I take that long walk to the front door. I lock up and place the keys under a potted plant, exactly where I told him I would leave them. It's amazing how much difference two years can make; taking a couple from heated passionate fights...to indifference.

A cab waits in the drive way, its engine running. Every hour traveled will put more miles between me and yesterday. I pause on the front walk and glance back at what use to be her window, then at ours; both windows are on the same end of the house because I needed her close at night. How do you learn to live again when everything you once loved has vanished?

Three lives will intersect and forever be transformed by one small boy, proving the true estimate of strength can not be seen in the physical but shines from the most delicate unlikely places. For anyone that has ever been broken.

Unknown Binding