Lisa Black

Till Death Do Us Part

Weak December daylight filters through the gauzy bedroom curtains. I roll over and reach for Nick, but of course, he isn’t in bed. I almost forgot Nick is leaving me today. Leaving me for a younger version--of me. Leaving me and my infertile womb and my drinking problem brought on by my infertile womb. Leaving me. Discarding me. Moving on without me.