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“Busy Mitchell, you mean.”
I rest my hands on my hips. “Yeah, she’s part of it, but it’s not just about her. It’s about…a lot of different things.”
“Like?”
I sigh, knowing I need to just rip the Band-Aid off and get to the point. I don’t want to hurt her, but there’s no use beating around the bush.
“I think there was a time when seeing each other felt good. Like we were still going to be friends in spite of the fact thatour marriage was over, and wasn’t that mature of us. Still loving each other, but in a different way.” I pause, knowing this is the hard part. “But it doesn’t feel that way anymore. At least not for me.”
Sarah shakes her head and stands, walking over to the bookshelf against the wall where all my family photos are. She stares at them for a long time before plucking one down—the one Busy gave me from our hike together.
I put that photo on the shelf the minute I got home that night, knowing it deserved a place of honor. I knew, despite my best efforts, Busy and Junie had carved a space for themselves in my heart that only they could ever fill.
“Do you ever regret it?” Sarah asks me, her voice quiet. “The divorce?”
I blink, surprised. “What?”
She slowly sets the photo back in its place then turns around. That’s when I see that her eyes have grown glassy.
“Because I do.” Her eyes close, and her tears fall down her face. She shakes her head. “I regret it all the time."
I lean back against the kitchen island before I drop down onto one of the stools, feeling shock roll through me in a wave.
“Reid, I think I made a mistake,” she says, taking a step toward me. “I think I was so…devastated by your diagnosis I didn’t know what to do. It just made sense to do what was easiest.”
I watch her as she crosses toward me, her hands twisting together in front of her, her face a wash of distress.
“Then you told me you were just going to be single, said it was easiest that way, and I figured we were the same, figured we both just wanted to avoid the pain the future would cause each other.”
Sarah comes to a stop just in front of me.
“But I miss you. I miss what we used to be,” she whispers, reaching out and taking my hand in hers. “Do you think we could get back to what we were before? Think you could forgive me?”
A million things run through my mind in that moment, appearing and then vanishing in a blink, but the one thing that stays at the forefront is Busy. The woman I love.
“Idoforgive you, Sarah,” I say, my voice soft, my heart sad. “But our time has run its course. There is nousanymore to return to. I’ve found…”
My voice trails off as I try to communicate what Busy and I have. When Sarah first got here, I wanted to shield all my feelings from her, not share them at all. But now, knowing she’s entertaining the idea of getting back together, it feels important that I be as clear and transparent as possible.
“I’ve found the other half of my soul,” I continue, hating the way she flinches at my words. “You and I shared something special, and I will always care about you. Always. But when things got hard, we gave up. Both of us, not just you.”
I squeeze her hand, which is still in mine.
“So, no. I don’t think we could get back to what we were before. Because my heart has found a new home.”
Sarah watches me for a long minute before she pulls her hand back and clears her throat, her eyes flicking around the room like she’s desperate to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Besides,” I add on, wanting to lessen the blow, even just a little, “I think we both knew you always wanted to marry someone who makes a lot more money than I do.”
Her head jerks back, but when she sees the smile on my face, her shoulders fall, her lips tilting up at the sides.
“I would make anexcellenttrophy wife,” she replies, laughing quietly as she wipes away the last of her tears.
“Alton seems like a good man,” I offer, trying to be kind. “You both seem happy.”
She shakes her head, a tight smile on her face. “We’re not long term. I know that. But…I’m sure there’s someone else out there for me. Somewhere.” She glances around and moves to grab her purse from where she set it on the couch. “So I guess…this is goodbye, then?” she asks, pulling her shoulders back.
I nod. “I think so.”
