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London’s breathing is steady, but every so often I can hear him swallowing hard or exhaling a little sharper than before. He’s trying to be strong for both of us, but I know he’s also navigating through his own storm of emotions.
“Remember that summer when we tried to count all the stars?” London’s voice, although soft, breaks the stillness.
It draws a chuckle from me, so I turn to face him. “We gave up around three hundred something,” I recall, unable to hide a slight grin.
He chuckles. “Simpler times, weren’t they?”
“Simpler, but not necessarily better,” I muse, recalling both the good and bad times of our past.
We continue to reminisce, reliving some of our favorite memories and laughing over our childish antics. This trip down memory lane feels like a salve to my wounded heart, reminding me that even amidst the pain, there’s light waiting to embrace you in its warmth.
However, as the night wears on, the weight of my reality starts to settle back in, and I can’t help but wonder about the future.
What will my life look like now?
Where will I live?
How do you start a divorce? Will Seth start it? Or should I?
There’s so much to consider.
“We should probably head back,” London murmurs, probably sensing my internal shift.
“I don’t want to go home,” I admit, my voice nothing more than a strangled whisper. His gaze searches mine, silently asking for clarification. “Not to that empty house ... not tonight.”
His eyes soften with understanding. “You can stay at my place,” he offers. “It’s not much, but it’s a change of scenery. Or, if you’d rather go to your sister’s—”
“Your place would be nice,” I say, cutting off his uncertainty. Even though Angie offered, I can’t deal with her questions right now. So, instead, I just whisper, “Thank you.”
The idea of being somewhere new, even just for the night, feels inviting.
London stands up, brushing grass from his backside. Then, he reaches a hand out for me. I slide my hand in his, so grateful for his support. It means more to me than he’ll ever know.
As we begin our walk back, the city’s nocturnal sounds surround us. The distant hum of traffic, the muted conversations from late-night trail walkers, and the rhythmic cadence of our footsteps on the pavement create a comforting ambiance.
I didn’t know what to expect from tonight—from that conversation with Seth—but if this is how it ends, I’m at least glad it didn’t end in a heated argument, or overly hurt feelings.
Instead, it just sort of fizzled.
Like my marriage.
The sidewalks are lit by the gentle glow of streetlights, casting long shadows in our path. Each step feels like I’m straddling two worlds—the melancholy of the past and the uncertainty of the future.
“So, how far do you live from here?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the looming thoughts about the dissolution of my marriage.
“Actually, I bought my parent’s old place,” London replies.
I turn to him, unable to hide my surprise. “Really?”
He grins sheepishly.
My eyebrows tug in, wishing I could read his mind. Instead, I murmur, “It’s strange … How some places just embed themselves in your heart.”
He smiles, that familiar lopsided grin that used to make my heart so happy as a kid. “Some places …and some people.”
My heart skips a beat and a soft smile tugs at my lips as we continue walking.
A comfortable silence settles between us, but it’s punctuated by the occasional sounds of the city—the laughter of a group of friends heading home or the distant rumble of a train.
