wasn't for our daughter, I would have moved on by now.” She said, weight lifting off her shoulders with every word, every sentence that she had perfected in years of preparation. “But you still love me,” said the man quietly. “Try as you might, you still care.” The woman towards his bag. Then, speaking quietly, she said, “What’s in the bag?” “Just a few things from my journey.” The mahogany man said a little too quickly. “Nothing to bother you with.” “Well, I’m sure I won’t mind,” said the woman sweetly. “After all, you've been so generous as to leave me THREE YEARS BY MYSELF. I think I can handle whatever’s in there.” The mahogany man slowly picked up the bag and opened it. Inside was a plethora of bottles, cans, and the smell of sweet fermented alcohol. The woman thrust the bag back towards him too quickly, the bottles rolling out of the open bag and clashing in contact with the floor. “YOU WOULD COME BACK HERE?” The woman said, now engulfed in fury and moving towards the man as he hurriedly moved back towards the threshold where the door lay open. In his rushed steps, he, for a moment, tripped on his own shoes, falling down and dropping Bear in the process. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!” The woman was now sobbing in between screams. “Please, please, just let me see Embala.” The man begged; now, outside on the floor, after his legs had refused to lift him up. The woman's face was now stone cold, locked on the mahogany man, no remorse left. Her voice contrasted her face when she was able to finally muster words; a slow and quiet tone. “You have done enough. You have not earned the right to see your son. You should never come back.” Her voice now below a whisper and drowned out by the roaring wind and cold outside, stopped as she shut the door. She sunk down to the floor, sitting on the cold hard floor; grounded in her fears and tears. She put her head in her hands, letting the cold tears fall through her unfurled fingers. An hour passed, then another. Still, she did not dare yet show her eyes to the colors of the world outside. At last she turned to the side, finding Bear lying on the ground with her, every second of her wait. “Oh my, what are you doing here?” She murmured as she picked him up. “A bit dusty aren't you? Embala will surely love everything about this gift.” She walked into the one and only other room in the house, a nursery of sorts. There, lying peacefully on the ground, sat a 5 year old girl; beautiful as one could be and with eyes filled with the cold ocean which she was raised above. Her face was still innocent, a certain uncertainty settling on her expression each of the passing moments. More than anything though, her eyes carried with them, like her father, a sense of speculation, wonder. She grabbed up for the Bear, the first thing she saw as her mother entered the room. “Mommy, was daddy here? Why does he leave the Bear?” She said loudly, speaking as if she wanted the whole wide world to listen; no concern for privacy or secrecy.
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