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SHE MADE ME A MAN
PRESENT
It’s rare that Peter is able to surprise me. Even rarer that I’m unable to reach him.
So when he shows up on my doorstep with two coffees in his hands, I wonder if he knows that Denise has the girls.
“They aren’t here,” I tell him. “I tried to call you and let you know but…”
“I know,” he says, having the decency to look contrite. “I’m here for you.”
I can’t help my anger. Peter left me to handle our children on my own. And while I was able to, he signed up for this. He swore he was in this with me, whether we’re together or not.
And even if it was only for a week, he shirked his responsibility; reneged on his end of the deal.
I think about the promises we made each other at the altar all those years ago. I think about the promise I made to not tell Abraham.
I think of all the imperfections Peter has taken in stride, offering me the best of himself, even when I didn’t deserve it.
And I think about how it wasn’t enough for me.
I just want someone to love me big.
So big, I could float in the vastness of it.
I step aside to let him in, grabbing the coffee he holds out for me.
It’s a comfort, having someone who knows you well enough to know your coffee order. This is a learned thing, something I will miss.
But now it’s time for me to get my own fucking coffee.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me as we walk inside. He veers off to the living room and I follow him in, choosing to sit in the armchair while he settles on the couch. “It wasn’t my intention to leave you on your own, but I needed…time.”
I nod, setting the paper cup on the coffee table.
“Was your time able to give you what you needed?” I ask him, wondering where we now stand. If we’re going to maintain our peaceful separation and amicable co-parenting arrangement or if he fucking hates me.
“I think so,” he answers, tilting his head as he looks at me through thoughtful eyes. “I realized a lot.”
“Like?”
Like this was a mistake. Like I fucking hate you. Like I wish I never met you.
“Like I was willing to try to smother you with love just to keep you. I was willing to do things I didn’t like, things I never thought I could, just to make it work.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be love?” I think out loud.
“Ah, see, that’s where the lesson is. It’s only love if both parties are that 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.
