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“Ah, see, that’s where the lesson is. It’s only love if both parties are willing. Otherwise, it’s just…doom?” He offers a smile, but it isn’t his usual one.
I don’t know what to say to him. How to make this better.And maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe this is what divorce is.
Things won’t ever be the same. We just work with whatever we have left.
And now it’s time for me to share my last secret.
I just hope he doesn’t take this as badly as the last one.
“He’s here because I told him about her,” I confess, my shoulders sagging although the brunt of my harbored secret leaves my body.
I watch as his shoulders match mine. He glances up at the ceiling again, as if the answers are there somehow before he looks at me. Another sad smile is all I get for a moment. I try not to focus on the way his eyes fill for a moment before he pinches the bridge of his nose.
These are his children. They’ve been his children since they were born. And that will never change.
But we need to have this uncomfortable conversation so we can finally move forward with no more secrets.
“Of course you did. That’s who you are,” he says with a nod, clearing his throat before speaking again. “I understand why you did.” Across from me, he wipes away a tear and I don’t quite know what to say.
Before I can attempt to fill the silence, he says, “I had no right to ask you to keep her from him. And my presence isn’t dependent on that. They’re my children.”
We sit there, our coffees getting cold, the air still between us. This feels like an end. Like a goodbye.
“He should meet her,” he starts, his eyes shining with more tears. “She made me a man. Maybe she’ll do the same for him.”
Without another word, he stands. I can’t look at him as he walks away.
And when the door closes behind him, I let out a sob.
I hurt a good man.
It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever get over.
I reach out for my phone, unable to see clearly through my tears. But somehow, I find Abraham’s name in my phone, and I call him.
He picks up on the third ring.
“We need to talk,” I tell him, trying to hide the tears in my voice.
“Where are you?” he asks me, the sound of voices around him fading as I assume he finds a quiet space to talk.
“Home.” I don’t have to tell him where “home” is, having received four checks from him over the years at this address.
“I’ll be there in a half-hour,” he tells me, and I hang up, unable to keep my tears in check.
I burned down my life. I ripped apart my family.
And even before then, I aimed to hurt Abraham just because he’d hurt me. Often, I wondered how he felt when he woke up and saw I was gone. I wondered how many times he called my name before he realized I was gone. I wondered if he debated on trying to call or text before deciding it was best to leave us in the past.
Had he lost himself in this the way I had? The way I continue to do so, even though we had such a short love affair.
I think we know when things are meant to be, even when they’re fleeting.
We let ourselves lose our minds in it a little.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
SAVE YOU FROM ME
