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I feel like someone just stabbed me in my gut and then twisted the knife around.
Is this really how he feels? I mean, I’m hearing the words he’s saying, but his actions speak so differently. And he told me he loves me…why would he say that if he didn’t see us together down the line?
Part of me shouldn’t be shocked by this revelation, but another part feels like someone just took my future from me and ripped it to shreds.
“She’s incredible with Oliver. I seriously couldn’t have asked for anyone better to accept my son. But I just can’t go through that again—the dividing of assets, the cost, the stress, and feelings of failure.”
“Maybe you’ll change your mind. That woman is one in a million, Ethan, and she told me she sees a future with you. Does she know how you feel?”
“Not exactly,” he answers honestly, but I feel completely blindsided right now, followed by irritation building in my chest. This is something he should have brought up a long time ago if it’s really how he feels.
I see clients in second and third marriages still trying to make their relationships work. I know it can be done, and people can find happiness and true love the second time around.
But apparently, Ethan doesn’t believe that can happen to him, or with me.
“Well, you need to tell her if this is what you want. But I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself about how you feel about her. Not all marriages end in divorce, honey. There’s a reason why some last for a lifetime, and that’s because two people found the right person to make it work. Monica was not your person. But I truly think Amelia is.”
“It’s not just about that, Mom. It’s about the fact that divorce is messy. And when shit hits the fan, love can’t save you. In fact, I’ve seen it turn so ugly that people question why they ever married the other person in the first place, even after twenty or thirty years. I don’t want to ever feel that way about her.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have. I care about her. I love her. But I don’t want to be married again.”
“Then you need to tell her because it’s not fair to lead her on if you’re not going to give her what she wants out of life.”
“I will, I just haven’t had the chance.”
Haven’t had the chance? Wouldn’t a few nights ago been the perfect time to tell me this before you told me that you loved me? Or before you agreed to date me in the first place?
Rage and hurt run through me as my mind spins with this revelation.
“This isn’t something to put off, Ethan. That woman deserves to know…unless you think you might change your mind down the road.”
“I…I honestly don’t know if I will. I want to, but after my divorce was final, I made the decision that I would never marry again, and it’s hard to move back on a decision like that.”
Before I realize it, my hand is frozen in mid-air, and I’m staring out the window above the sink, looking intently at the patio lights blinking outside as I come back to reality.
What the hell do I do now? Do I say something and let him know I overheard him, running the risk of having a conversation that may not end the way I want it to? Or do I bank on the fact that he might change his mind one day, keyword being might?
Instantly my mind veers into therapist mode as if I’m handling a crisis. What would I tell my client in this position?
You would tell her to have the tough conversation because then there’s nothing left to ponder. It’s better to know where you stand with someone than waste time in your life hoping for them to change their mind and then regret not walking away and finding someone who wants the same things you do. You would tell her that part of taking control of your life is not letting people use you and then wonder why you let them go down that road. You would tell her to consider the alternative if you didn’t speak up and ask yourself if you’re willing to live with those consequences.
Taking a deep breath, I place the rag back in the sink of hot water and wipe my hands on a towel, knowing what I need to do.
“I can’t believe you’re willing to gamble your chance at a life with her,” Lisa says as I turn the corner, tucking a curl behind my ear.
“Ethan?” Both of their eyes flash to me, wide with alarm. “I think we need to talk.”
“Oh, shit,” Lisa says, frantic within a second. “Amelia, I’m sorry if you overheard that…”
I hold up my hand. “No, it’s probably better that I did. I think it’s time for me to go. I’m just going to say goodbye to Oliver really quick.”
I grab my purse and hold back my tears as I enter the backyard to find Oliver swinging again, talking to the neighbor kid over the fence. “Oliver, I have to leave.”
He jumps from the swing and runs over to me. “But we haven’t had dessert yet.”
“I know,” I say, brushing his hair from his face. “But I have something to do that I forgot about.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks, his eyes begging for answers that I can’t give him right now.
“I don’t know. But I promise we’ll see each other soon.” Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Amelia.
Wrapping his arms around my legs, he gives me a hug. “Okay. Bye, Amelia. I love you.”
Choking back a sob, I say, “I love you too.”
I re-enter the house and make eye contact with Ethan long enough for him to see me head for the front door. “Thank you again, Lisa, for the invitation.”
“It was a pleasure, Amelia. I hope to see you again soon. And I’m sorry…”
“Yeah, me too.”
Walking down to the sidewalk where my car is parked, I place my purse inside and turn to find Ethan standing right behind me. We don’t say anything for a while, searching each other’s eyes as I ponder what to say before I finally speak up, anger fueling my words now to mask my hurt. “So, are we going to talk about what I overheard?”
“What did you hear exactly?”
