Widow or Divorcee?

I had to go through eight diffrent Starbucks to get a coffee to stay awake. My heart was beating, the rhythm meeting the sound of the cars rushing by. As my hands gripped the steering wheel and the soft breathing of Aribelle filled the car, I seemed to have relaxed. At least Aribelle was still alive, if I had lost her I would be in complete misery. But I love Jamia instead, so i'm still in complete misery.

I looked at my left hand and took a shallow breath. The ring, the ring with both our named on it. It was engraved for us when I first picked it out. My head spun and I almost lost control of the car. I swerved a few times, but I was okay. After reached Belleville, I was slow. Slow driving through all the familiar streets I used to play in as a kid.

The house. The house I remebered at Christmas. The house Aribelle was born in because I couldn't get Jamia to the hospital at Thanksgiving fast enough. My mind had so many replays of my mom having to do Thanksgiving the next day without Jamia because she had to stay in the hospital. I was so happy watching Aribelle being born. It was the best day of my life.

Shaking those memories away, I walked into the house. It was dark. Everyone was asleep.

"Mom! Dad! We're home!"