The backyard was so inviting, so verdant, that it claimed the company of the sun. She was on her back, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, tackled by the two children whom she so painfully bore and joyfully raised. They were twins--the girl donned a white dress fit for frolicking and had ginger locks that smoothly flowed from her petite head; the boy had chocolate smeared around his thin lips and ginger hair just like his sister's, but shorter.
"Oh no, you got me!" their mother cried out. Giggles and laughter ensued.
The smell of chocolate chip cookies curiously misted out of the house into the backyard, and the boy grinned so wide the cheshire cat would be put to shame. He pulled his mother's hand as his sister ran towards their grandmother with the plate full of bits of heaven.
"Go ahead sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute," his mother said with a smile.
Letting go of her hand, he sprinted back to the house, and disappeared behind the door.
When no one else was in sight, she stumbled back to her feet, arms holding herself together, palms rubbing against her skin. In the heat, she felt the chill, and she wondered desperately what her husband was doing. Futilely restraining herself, she began to sob as she thought of him fucking someone else, (when in actuality, he was in the hotel bathroom, shaving the blonde hair clear off his scalp.)
"You coming mommy?" the little girl shouted.
"Yes angel!" the mother shouted in return, successfully hiding the breaks in her voice.
She wiped the tears off her cheeks and turned around with a smile at the sight of her little girl with chocolate on her lips. But inside she kept the battle between regret and contentment, of the thing she committed circa four years and nine months ago.
(photo via Vogue.com)
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