Mom’s confidence boosts me, even though it is hard to even think about what happened.
“I’m not sure I’m okay,” I say, dropping my head to look down at my glass of wine. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be…who I was. Or I’ll never not…want things to be different.” My hand drifts higher now, my palm cupping the bandage that covers my mark. It’s fully healed, I’m just…not ready to look at it yet.
Get more PearlsTop Up
Go to Joyread app
Then you can read more chapters. And you'll find other wonderful stories on Joyread.