It had not always been like this. Sara gazed across the dinner table at her son Davey. This was the first time this month that Davey had visited. As he murmured about his next business trip to Paris, Sara nodded distantly, poking at the steak she had spent hours preparing. Davey’s rushed gobbling reminded Sara that he had to leave immediately after dinner for a meeting. She would prolong this moment as long as she could: pick, stab.
Her son was a successful businessman now. Davey went on many business trips and lived in the office. When he had spare time, he would occasionally drop by. Each time, out of habit, he would come wearing the hemp necklace, which Sara had made for him when he was just five years old.
That had been twenty-five years ago. The hemp necklace had worn out through the decades. The beads were rather dull, the knots loose. There were tangles here and there, but Sara would not have changed it even if she could. So imperfect, yet perfect.
As a single mom, raising Davey alone had not been easy, and at times, she had even worked several jogs at a time. Now, Sara never had to worry about money; Davey provided her with everything she needed. In fact, today, Davey had handed her a velvet box. He had proudly opened it, revealing a diamond bracelet. Each crystal sucked in light and gleamed obnoxiously. Sara had forced a smile, fully knowing that she should have been ecstatic.
Years ago, when her boyfriend abandoned her and Davey, Sara could have only dreamt for such a life. All she had then was her love for her son, whom Sara had poured her whole heart to. When she came home at the end of the day with swollen ankles and aching hands, Davey’s toothless smile would rejuvenate her.


And her efforts had paid off. Initially, at least. As if the universe was rewarding her for her efforts, Davey had been an absolute cherub: pure, sweet, and simply perfect. When Sara sat dejectedly at the dinner table with her hands wrenching her contorted face, life’s hardships crashing down on her, Davey would plant a light kiss on her cheeks. Her heart would liquefy into warm broth.


Unfortunately, such happiness did not last. Davey’s dark past, regarding his father’s abandonment, whipped down on him. Instead of telling detailed accounts of his day when Sara asked him about school, Davey would mutter a couple syllables before disappearing into his room. His dejection and anger could not be marked any clearer than by his drooped lids and constant scowl.


This period of change and lack of communication crumpled the delicate tissue paper that was Sara and Davey’s relationship. Such a paper, having been crumpled once—despite years of ironing, flattening, and laminating—remained torn and damaged. Now all it did was flap pitifully on the ground.


Even as she gripped Davey’s hands and hugged him fiercely before he drove away in his BMW, Sara felt that she lost her Davey. When would she see him again? She looked down at the diamond bracelet cuffed around her wrist. It felt heavy. The bracelet gleamed in the night like a broken piece of glass—glinting brightly but too cold, too harsh.