The back of my legs stuck to the cracked, red leather seat of the barstool, the smell of breakfast in the air. The sound of the bells chiming as you pushed open the diner door reached me before you did. A black coffee and a plate of hash browns, that’s what you ordered. Hello, you said as I took a sip of my strawberry milkshake. I turned my head to the right to take you in for the first time and I saw it, our future together. We went to movies and dinners and I moved in with you. Dad asked if you were serious and willing to take good care of me when you asked for my hand in marriage. Yes, you said and I squeezed your fingers. Mom smiled quietly in the corner. It was a beautiful day and I felt like a princess in my white wedding gown. You were ready long before I was for children and when the day came that I found out I was expecting I stopped sleeping. When I gave birth you and I cried but for different reasons. She became the center of your world and I drifted away until I was too lost to find my way back.
How are you? You asked as the waitress served you coffee, the steam rising lazily. I didn’t answer, just smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded in your direction once as I stood and walked away. I never saw you again.