Page 38 of Promise

In many ways, I will always love Dart. How could I not? I’d been married to him for twelve years. We’d been happy together, good for one another. Our falling apart feels like a force outside of who we were.

A dream denied over and over again, taking a toll on both of us.

My gaze falls to Mirabelle, who remains asleep in the bassinet despite the commotion in the room. Because this room is also filled with love and support. My friends want to help me sort out my feelings.

“Hate is valid,” Mavis says, still assessing me. “But love and hate also walk a fine line, and holding onto hatred takes a lot of energy. Energy you need to focus elsewhere.”

She glances at Mirabelle as well.

Mavis is right. Hate is a strong emotion, and even though Dart left me, I never hated him. Not truly. I’d been hurt. I’d been confused. And most of all, I’d been alone, without my best friend, my husband, to talk about all the conflicting emotions.

It also took energy to hate someone, concerted energy that I didn’t have to focus on Dart when I wanted to focus on myself instead. I needed a reset, and perhaps, him ripping out my heart, recharged me.

I took giant leaps through grief and loss, anger and disbelief, and then, I just woke up one day and told myself to move on. One step forward at a time.

“He might be good-looking, but I’m willing to collect shovels if we need them,” Halle teases, especially as her shovel collection would come from Sylver Seed & Soil.

“I know a guy or two who could help,” Mavis suggests, a small hint to her past, which she rarely mentions.

I snort, knowing both women are joking.

“He obviously still loves you,” Genie states. “The way he looked at you before he left.” Genie dramatically sighs and fans her face. “My ovaries exploded and I just had Nolan. Luckily, Judd and I have the all clear to⁠—”

“La, la, la, la,” Vale sings. “Brother talk, remember.”

Once upon a time, Vale and I made an agreement. Never discuss our brothers. Their decisions did not dictate our friendship. Vale now demands that none of her sisters-in-law share their sexcapades with her because . . . brothers.

Halle chuckles. Mavis smiles.

Vale breathes out a heavy exhale. “I hate to agree that he’s still a tall drink of water.”

“Question is, how thirsty are you?” Halle asks, knowing how vocal I can be about my sexuality.

Single. Individual. Independent.

I’ve bragged for years that a woman only needs herself for pleasure. I take care of my needs. With the help of some tools sold during our book club meetups.

I’ve probably been Meredith’s best customer over the past three years.

Mavis squeezes my hand. “She looks absolutely thirst-deprived.” As the subtle one among us, her comment surprises me.

“Like she needs hydration,” Genie adds. “Bet he’s willing to moisten whatever you want.”

Halle snorts, holding up her palm toward Genie, who smacks it back.

“Still want a sip of that water?” Vale asks, hesitantly.

“I don’t know,” I admit, as tears fill my eyes.

I just don’t know.

13

[Dart]

Imentally spiral as I drive to the baseball field.

I’m watching Trinity struggle to eat. Watching her barely sleep. Watching her parent alone. I’ve been trying to do small things to help without overstepping.