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Chapter One
Retail therapy should have been a welcome distraction from the morose mood I'd been lost in for days. Having time off work used to feel amazing, but not anymore.
Now, all I feel is lost. The house has been so quiet and empty since my young son, Colby, left for a two-week vacation to Cancun with his grandparents, my future former in-laws.
Memories of the great times our family had shared crept into my mind, immediately filling my heart with sadness. I'd been stuck in this groove for almost a year now.
Doreen and Keith were great with my son and loved him to pieces, so I knew my seven-year-old would be having the time of his life. I felt thankful for Colby's grandparents because their continued support had meant the world to me since my soon-to-be ex-husband, Logan—their son—had left me.
There was a time when I would have been super excited to have downtime. But that was back in the days when I'd been a wife, as well as a mother, and life had been comfortable and much simpler. It was a time when it had felt much easier to breathe.
The periods when Logan had vacation time from his job as a Professor of English at NYU were even better. This used to be valuable time when he had no daily commute to the city, and we'd had the time to reconnect as a couple. However, since we'd both gained promotions those times had dwindled.
Personally, my workload had doubled. Add to that his responsibilities and more demands on his time for extracurricular speeches, as well as raising and entertaining our son, my days were full.
What I had failed to notice for a while was the special dates my husband and I used to share had disappeared, and when it finally dawned on me that Logan spent more time at work than he did at home, I questioned him about it.
"Billie, you of all people should know what it's like when you first get promoted. You've got to be seen to be going above and beyond," he advised me, sternly reminding me his absence as showing dedication to his new role. "Chairman of the English Department is a position that comes with a certain amount of responsibility," he explained, closing the conversation down.
Hearing him admonish me with a plausible excuse had made me feel guilty for adding pressure to his still newish situation, and being a reasonable person, my rational side empathized with his need to make a good impression.
After all, it was only fair he led by example in his new position of authority, and I suppose with the festive season looming at the time, I'd gotten sidetracked with making our Christmas for the family the best it could be.
The holiday had given me some quality time with my husband, his parents and our son, Colby, but I'd noticed Logan had been quieter than usual.
Naturally, I'd chalk this up to the pressure of work and tiredness. Once Christmas Day had passed and the new year approached, he'd appeared to perk up again and spoke positively about returning for the new semester.
Between Christmas and New Year's Day, Logan's parents had gone to visit some old friends in upstate New York for a week, before flying back to Florida, and Logan's mood had changed the very same day.
Acting restlessly, like he had something on his mind, he eventually told me he had to pop into his office to pick up some important papers he'd forgotten to bring home. I hadn't thought anything of it until the hours had ticked by, but when he hadn't returned by 11:00 p.m. I grew concerned.
I had been ready to call the police when he'd finally arrived home, minus his car, in a yellow New York taxi.
"Thank goodness you're okay. Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" My barked tone sounded angry once the relief had subsided. A strong smell of alcohol seeped from his every pore, which was so unlike him. "Did something happen?" I'd asked, staring at him in alarm, because I couldn't imagine what it had taken for him to be in the state he was in and wondered what had been so bad that it had driven him into the nearest bar.
"Yep, something's wrong. This is wrong," he'd said, gesturing between us with his index finger. Fear had gripped my chest because he hadn't been making sense and him being drunk had felt like a bolt out of the blue.
"What? I don't understand?" Anxiety tightened my chest, worry creasing my brow. I'd wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him, fighting to keep him upright. Swaying precariously, he'd blinked at me like he couldn't focus.
"I have to leave," he blurted. The words tore from his mouth as he'd brought his hand to his eyes, swiped past it and tried again. He caught and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. My heart hammered in my chest, the anguish growing with every second that had passed because I hadn't been able to make sense of what he was saying.
"Leave? Work? I don't understand," I probed hurriedly, as I tried to make sense of what he had told me. He'd looked devastated.
"Work's fine," he snapped, drawing a long deep breath in through his nose. He held it in almost too long before he finally exhaled and tried to focus his attention on me again. "It's you … Colby. This," he'd offered, throwing his arm out in a sloppy gesture toward our living room.
"What's going on? You're frightening me, Logan." I heard my frustration in my tone and drew in a calming breath as he stared into my eyes. I stood and waited for him to speak.
"I know. But there you have it. I am in love, but not with you. I mean, I love you, but Poppy …" he sighed. Somehow, I knew immediately what he meant, and I felt crushed by his words.
"Poppy?" I'd repeated, as panic gripped my chest. I'd never met anyone with that name.
When I'd questioned her name, his face immediately softened and a slow smile crept over his lips. He hadn't needed to say the rest, because from the look on his face I'd instantly known what he'd been saying. My whole future had just fallen apart.
"Shit," he said through a breath. "I'm in love." For a moment, the world stopped spinning and we stood staring blankly at each other, before he proceeded to give me a blow-by-blow account of his affair, from the time they'd met to when he'd voiced the final decision. His words immediately demolished me. Looking back, I felt sure he'd never have subjected me to the intimate timeline of their affair had he not been drunk.
He hadn't meant for an affair to happen, but he'd fallen in love with the new professor in the Science department at work. God knows how they'd met—I didn't ask—and I couldn't have cared less. Because the most devastating part of it all was that the woman in question was almost a decade younger than I was.
If I hadn't been so destroyed by the breakup of my marriage, Logan leaving me for a younger model would have felt so clichéd.
