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Did that mean we shouldn’t get a divorce, though?
Maybe he wasn’t as toxic as I’d made him out to be, but there were still facts. We didn’t get along. We couldn’t stand each other. We were better off apart.
Right?
I met Kara’s concerned gaze and told her, “I’m sorry you went through this. I’m sorry that you were hurt so badly.”
She waved it off, “It was a long time ago.”
“It still cuts deep.”
Her gray eyes flashed with proof that divorce cut deep, so deep and jagged it was like death. The death of something sacred… something holy and set apart. Marriage, no matter how short or long, was bound in vows and promises made from our very souls. Severing that tie was like murdering a part of your body.
I felt that daily. I felt it in a way that I knew would never go away.
Kara could talk cavalierly about how she had to go, but she still went through this. She still grieved. She still let those vows wither and die.
“Thank you,” she whispered, blinking brightened eyes. “You’re a good friend.”
“You’re a good friend too.”
“And thank god we have each other. We can become spinsters together.”
“Can we get a cat?”
“Babe, we’ll get cats. Dozens of them. So many that our clothes will be covered in cat hair and we’ll have to pick it off our food before we can eat.”
“That’s disgusting.” But I smiled because I really did like that picture. I liked the idea that I would never be completely alone. I could always become a crazy cat lady with Kara and carpool with her to work daily.
My future wasn’t as bleak as I once thought it would be.
She sighed. “Okay, I have to get back to work. I think I was supposed to be in a meeting five minutes ago.”
“With who?”
“Kellar and that kid that flooded the boy’s locker room.”
I snorted a laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck,” she mumbled on her way out the door. “I need someone else to flood a locker room so I don’t have to go.”
I watched her leave and waited another minute before I pulled my phone from my purse. I opened my text messages with every intention to text Nick. I had to tell him…
Something.
I didn’t know what, I just… what? I needed to hear from him?
But why?
My fingers hovered over the screen. I didn’t have anything to say to him. I was supposed to be furious with him for causing so much trouble during mediation. I should have wanted nothing to do with him.
And yet I couldn’t stop myself. It was like my body was possessed by the ghost of Christmas past.
Or a demon.
A demon that couldn’t get over her ex-husband.
Cheese and rice, there was something wrong with me.
I tossed my phone on the desk and crossed my arms. And my legs. And tapped my foot.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I picked it up again and scrolled through old messages. Finally, I settled on texting my mother. That was safe.
Need me to bring anything for di
Three minutes later, she texted back: Just be on time.
Oh, my god. Mom. I needed boundaries with my family. They were literally going to drive me over the edge if I didn’t put a stop to this.
The bell rang and I breathed a sigh of relief. I could lock my phone away now and I wouldn’t be tempted. At least not very much.
I bent over and unlocked my bottom drawer. But then, as if I was actually possessed, I pulled up Nick’s number and texted: Do you think there was more we could have done?
I pushed send and my heart stopped beating. I lost all my breath and I wanted to immediately take it back. I wanted to delete it and unsend it and erase this moment from time completely.
I needed a time machine or the Doctor or freaking Michael J. Fox and the DeLorean.
I dropped my phone into my purse and slammed my drawer shut. Idiot. I was such an idiot.
I didn’t look at my phone until the end of the day. Until I’d gotten into my car and turned it on.
Then finally I allowed myself to see if he’d texted me back.
He had.
Of course, he had. I had never doubted that he wouldn’t.
Yes.
That was all he wrote. A simple, world-changing, confusing, mind-boggling, frustrating Yes.
Chapter Twenty-One
28. I can’t do this on my own.
Spring came overnight. One day I thought my toes would fall off if I stepped outside my house and the very next day the sun rose warm, bright and ready to melt every ounce of snow from Illinois.
It was amazing.
I had never been more ready for a change of seasons. This winter had been the darkest, gloomiest yet and I didn’t think I could survive much more of it.
Thank god, I didn’t have to.
The begi
Instead, I decided to take A
We just needed to breathe freely and move our winter-atrophied appendages.
Walking was beyond therapeutic. I didn’t just have cabin fever from being indoors for months; I had it from being in my own skin… in my own head. I was exhausted from myself.
But today felt different. The end of the school year was in sight, the end of my divorce was too. Maybe.
Hopefully.
And tomorrow was my birthday. Thirty-one.
I nearly had a meltdown when I turned thirty. I couldn’t stand the idea of aging into a new decade. I wasn’t ready to let go of my twenties and the youthfulness they represented. Thirties seemed too mature for me. Too grown up.
But Nick had been the one that made it amazing. He’d given me bouquets of thirty things all day long. He kept having them delivered to my classroom until my desk had overflowed and I had to set things along the windowsill.
Thirty pink roses. Thirty cans of Diet Coke. Thirty Snickers Bars. Thirty brand new red Sharpies. Thirty dollars for my Kindle. Thirty dollars to Garmans Deli. Thirty packs of my favorite gum.
I had to make three trips out to the car to carry it all, but he was at home to help me haul it all inside. Then he’d taken me to a bar called Thirty and Clover. The food had been awful and we’d laughed about it all night. He had leaned over the table at the end of the night and said, “See? Thirty isn’t so bad.”
The next day we’d fought about something stupid. I couldn’t remember what it was now. But I knew we didn’t speak to each other for four days.
Two months later I demanded a divorce.
A
It felt like hope.
It felt like change.
Mrs. Du
“Hi, Mrs. Du
“Hi, Kate.” She bent over to pat A
“It’s so nice today. We couldn’t resist.” Across the street, young kids bounded into their driveway with a basketball.