CHAPTER 55 Cassie Fields
My Own Hobbies
I pile the clothes that no longer fit Lily on top of the dresser, and I reorganize the drawer with what’s left. I put the clothes into a tote, and then I’m done.
The house is organized. Completely. Top to bottom. All of Luca’s clothes are organized, and so are Lily’s. I even went through my own. The kitchen is spotless. The playroom is organized.
It’s all done.
Every task on my list is done, and I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually been here. It’s always running from one thing to the next, but right now…I have nothing else to do. Not until the kids get home from school, anyway.
And I still don’t want to live here, but I’m not sure where else to go. I’m not sure what to do with myself. I don’t even really have my own hobbies anymore.
I used to love running. Maybe a run would do me some good .
I used to love doing puzzles. Maybe a puzzle would do me some good.
I used to enjoy scrapbooking. Maybe working on the baby books that have gone far too long without any attention at all would do me some good.
I have no hobbies that are just for me anymore. I gave them up when I had kids so that I could focus on them and their needs, their likes, their desires.
But they’re both at school, and I’m here. I feel restless. I’m tired but don’t want to sleep, antsy but don’t want to do anything. I can’t help but wonder if these feelings are because of the divorce, because both kids are at school full-time now, or because I got fired.
Maybe some combination of all three.
I can’t stop thinking about Tanner being in Vegas having fun and moving on while I’m stuck here in neutral. I feel lost, and I think it’s because I was starting to let Tanner be my compass. Or we were each other’s compass, anyway. Something along those lines.
I sigh heavily as I realize I’ve been kneeling in front of Lily’s dresser for the last ten minutes. I push to a stand, using the dresser to help lift up, and I hear each of my knees crack as I straighten.
I’m stiff, and I think a run—or a light jog, at least—might do me some good. I change into my running gear, and I head out the front door and take a lap around my neighborhood. I jog by my neighbor’s house, and three down from that is Katie’s place. I run around the corner toward Jess’s house, and a little further down by Natasha’s.
They’re my three closest friends in this neighborhood, my three only friends in the neighborhood now. When a divorce happens, it’s not just the husband and wife separating. It’s years of friendships, too. I run by Gemma and Michael Collins’s house. Alex got them in the divorce. I run by the Xaviers’ house and the Gladstones. Alex got both of them, too.
I hate how divisive it all feels. He doesn’t deserve any of them since he cheated on me, and yet friendships seemed to split based on who was closer. I was always closer to Natasha, Katie, and Jess, so I got them.
But really…nobody wins in any of it, and least of all when one of us is deceitful by nature. I thought the cheating was the worst of it, but that was before he conspired to make sure I lost my job. To make sure I’d always be dependent on him.
So maybe I’m not meant for a path in physical therapy. Maybe I’m not meant for anything medical at all.
Does anyone pay to put puzzles together? Or to scrapbook?
I make my first loop, and I pause by the driveway to pant for a few seconds before I take off for a second lap around the neighborhood. My lungs are burning and my legs are wobbly, but at least I feel it. And that’s definitely something.
I run a third lap, and I walk the fourth to cool down. I head inside and take a shower, and then I put together a puzzle. Before I know it, it’s time to pick up the kids.
The whirlwind of the evening begins, and it’s snacks and homework, baseball practice and making dinner. Through it all, Tanner is never very far from my mind.
I thought after a week things would start to get easier. I thought giving it a little time would help me pick up the pieces.
Apparently a week isn’t enough time.
I do another puzzle once I get the kids to bed, this time in complete silence. I don’t have a show on in the background. No music. Just me and my thoughts, the direction of which I do my very best to force on fitting one puzzle piece into another.
But even now, he sneaks his way in.
Is he still in Vegas?
Is he thinking about me ?
How’s his knee?
Is he okay?
One little phone call would answer all of those questions, but he’s busy moving on.
I guess maybe a week just isn’t enough time to move on.
But what will be? Another week? A month? A year?
The way things feel right now, I’m not sure any amount of time will ever be enough for me to move on from Tanner Banks.
Which is funny considering how easy it was to get over Alex in the grand scheme of things.
But the more I think about it, the more I wonder whether I really have to get over him. Maybe he’s moving on, and maybe that’s okay.
And maybe it’s equally okay if I don’t move on. Maybe I can’t because I’m hopelessly, madly, desperately in love with him. And I wish he was with me, too. But even if he isn’t, at least I got to experience a few months where it sure as hell felt like he was, and maybe that just has to be enough for this middle-aged single mom.
It was sure one hell of a few months with the quarterback, and the more life takes me on a pattern of rinse and repeat, the more I wonder whether we’ll ever be able to find our way back to each other.