The email kept staring at me like it was waiting for a decision.
Two days.
That's all I had to make a life altering decision.
I stared at the screen for a long time, rereading every line.
Reeds Corporation. New York City. Interview in two days.
Two words stood out more than the rest—New York.
My stomach tightened, accompanied by sleepless nights and lack of appetite I wasn't willing to wrap my head around the fact that I had to do this. I hadn't been back since everything fell apart.
Leah kept texting me, asking if I'd replied to confirm. I couldn't even bring myself to open the chat. What would I say?
"Hey, I can't take the job because I'm scared of New York?"
I shut the laptop, closed my eyes and leaned back on the chair as I drifted off in thoughts
I still remember that morning five years ago—the one after that night.
The room smelled like alcohol and regrets, I was having a severe headache probably from my excessive drinks I turned around blinking at the empty side of the bed. He was gone. No name. No note. No trace.
I told myself it didn't matter. It was just one stupid mistake that I'd soon forget, a hasty decision made under the influence.
But a few weeks later, when the morning sickness started, I realized the mistake had followed me home.
At first, I thought it was a joke. I must've used over ten pregnancy test strips, one after another, like the result would change if I tried hard enough.
When it didn't, I cried. Then I laughed. Then I cried again until there were no tears left.
I didn't have savings, I was unemployed and practicaly living off my best friend. My stepmother made it clear I wasn't welcome.
"You've brought shame into this house," she said, eyes full of disgust. My dad just sat there in silence, like he couldn't bear to look at me.
So I decided to leave to literally anywhere as long as it was far enough.
With a small bag and a stomach that kept growing by the second, I left the only home I'd ever known.
The months that followed were the hardest of my life. I survived by doing meaner jobs. My first few nights were spent at the train station where I met Karen. People stared at me judgingly and I cried myself to sleep most times.
When my son was born, everything changed.
The moment I held him, all the pain, all the shame—it faded. He was tiny and perfect and mine. My little boy.
I promised him that night, right there in that cold hospital room, that I'd never let him down. That no matter what it took, I'd give him a life better than mine.
The sound of the TV pulled me back to the present. Cartoons again. Karen must've left it on before going to work.
I looked at the small photo frame on the table—me and my son at the park last month. His bright smile made my heart ache.
Everything I'd done since then was for him.
Every crappy job. Every long shift. Every sleepless night.
And now this email sat in front of me, offering a chance to change everything.
A job that could actually pay the bills, maybe even a future.
But it came with a price—returning to the one city I never wanted to see again.
I picked up my phone and saw Leah's name flashing on the screen. I answered before I could talk myself out of it.
"You're overthinking again, aren't you?" she said.
"I'm not," I lied.
"Nyla."
"Fine. Maybe a little."
"Look, I know it's New York, but this is a real shot at something better. You can't keep running from your past forever."
"I'm not running," I said, even though I was. "I just… can't go back there."
"You can," she said softly. "And you will. For your son. You told me you'd do anything for him, remember?"
Her words hit hard. I stared at the photo frame again. His little smile stared right back at me, innocent and trusting.
"Leah," I whispered, "I'm scared."
"I know," she said gently. "but there's nothing to be scared off, you've got this."
I sighed as she cut the call, she had always had her way with words
After the call, I sat in silence thinking of the next step.
Finally, I opened the laptop again. The email still waited—like it knew I'd come back.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. My chest felt heavy.
All the reasons not to go came rushing back: the memories, the pain, the man I swore I'd forget.
But then I thought about my son. His future. His smile.
And suddenly, my fear didn't matter as much. I was going to see this through for his sake at least, I owed it to him.
I typed a short reply:
> Dear Reeds Corporation,
Thank you for your consideration. I confirm my availability for the interview on the scheduled date.
Sincerely,
Nyla Park.
I stared at the email for a while before hitting send. I knew I would regret this
I called Leah back letting her know I had given them a reply, she was overjoyed and spoke excitedly of all the new opportunities and stuff I should expect
The words felt like a promise.
I didn't know what waited for me in New York, but one thing was clear, the past I tried to bury was about to dig itself back up.