It’s getting close to midnight. I wonder if I should return home but the warm air wraps itself around me and I decide to stay.
It’s beautiful here by the lake. The moon’s reflection shimmers in the dim light; the stars twinkle reminding me of the old nursery rhyme Mum used to sing. Tears spill down my cheeks as I think of Mum, gone for five years. What I would do to be able to talk through matters with her right now.
My thoughts ramble. I close my eyes.
The trill of my phone startles me. The sky is now a pinkish hue. The clock glares the time: 5:57AM.
I swipe up. ‘Hello?’
‘Jen, where are you?’
‘Sorry, I’m by the lake. I fell asleep.’
‘Are you OK? Shall I come get you?’
‘Nah,’ I say, standing up. I grab my backpack and throw it on. ‘I’m coming now.’
I make my way home, rehearsing my speech with each step. I feel Mum’s presence, cheering and strengthening. I can almost hear her voice, assuring me I’m doing the right thing.
She’s not right for you. You deserve better.
‘You’re right Mum,’ I say out loud. ‘I’m going to break up with her as soon as I’m home.’
And this time I mean it.