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I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks after all. I’m always willing to try something new. Especially when I delve into the dynamics of how things work and grow. I like to challenge myself.
I love that Blake loves it too. She loves looking after the animals.
Blake is the best thing that ever happened to us. She’s like an angel I’m certain was sent to us as a gift from God.
There’s just this pesky little non-divorce thing that’s rattling me, and what I’m going to do about it.
Obviously I have to tell Eden. I just don’t want her to be mad. She doesn’t get mad often, but this could be a different matter. She’s always been one to believe in signs, but maybe this will prove to be a little too much.
I didn’t do it on purpose, but it’s still my fault. I acknowledge that.
And I know I need to fix it. But I keep asking myself — since I’ve made this recent non-divorce discovery — why have I now become a little more fixated on my wife than ever before in the last five years?
Why, oh why, indeed.
My wife. Fuck.
Why do I suddenly like the sound of that again? Even though I haven’t thought about it in so long. We are cool with things. We’ve always been happy to stay friends. We both agreed. So why am I now feeling this pang of regret that we couldn’t make things work? I thought it was done and dusted. I mean, it was… so why am I feeling like this?
Maybe I never really got over her. She was the love of my life, after all. Even when things drifted apart, I’ve always felt the connection towards her, that part never broke.
Perhaps that’s why we’ve remained so close over the years, never really arguing about anything. That’s an achievement in itself.
I like to think I’m a pretty happy-go-lucky guy. And raising our daughter, keeping her environment safe and calm, has always been number one priorities for us.
I’m meeting later with Eden at The Stone’s Throw Cafe in town to discuss Blake’s birthday party. It could be the right opportunity to bring up the whole non-divorce thing. I mean, it has to come out some time, right?
I tuck the papers into my backpack for safe keeping, and bring them along for the ride… just in case…
2
Brooklyn
When I get into the café, Aunt May is restocking the cake fridge. She’s not mine, or anyone’s aunt around here, but she insists everyone calls her that. Aunt May and her husband, Mike, have owned the cafe for decades. Her daughter runs it now with her kids, but her parents still help out.
“Brook, sweetheart, how have you been?” She’s all smiles when she sees me enter.
“All the better now for seeing you, Aunt May. You’re looking well.”
She laughs, pushing her wide-rimmed glasses up on top of her head. “You always were quite the charmer.”
“Well, I try my best.” I hold my hand to my heart with a healthy grin to match.
I have been known to charm a woman or two over the years, so I suppose she isn’t too far wrong. “Have you seen my wi—” Fuck, nearly spilled the beans. “Umm, the lovely Eden?”
“Right over there.” Aunt May points to the far table by the window where I now see Eden sitting with her diary open, tapping her pen against the table while she waits.
My heart does a flip.
Fucking hell. Not this again.
“We’re discussing Blake’s birthday,” I clarify.
“Ah. How old is the little darling again?”
“She’ll be eleven in exactly two weeks.”
“Eleven!” Aunt May tsks. “Where does the time go? I remember all too well when Eden came into this very cafe, as pregnant as the day is long, craving for sweet iced tea and lemon bars. It feels like yesterday.” She obviously remembers it fondly, judging by her smile and that twinkle in her eye.
