Chapter 30
M y footsteps echoed as I walked through our empty hallway. Unlike the last time I was here, the house was completely empty. Every piece of memory our home had held was now packed away, stored away, or donated.
After today, I would never step foot in this house again. No, it wasn't our forever home; we never planned on staying here indefinitely. But I did envision us living here for at least another year; together and happily still married. By then, we would have been able to afford a nice home, even though it would be out of the area we lived in. There was a school nearby so our suburb was quickly selling off to families. The surge in demand meant house prices increased, and even our rent continued to rise with each lease renewal.
I’d been looking forward to our first home—one we owned and could put our personal stamp on. Drew was a bit of a handyman around the house, and I was a fan of DIY shows, so we weren't afraid of a house that needed a little TLC. We could paint the walls whatever color we wanted or adopt a couple of dogs. Start a family.
As I slowly wandered around my former home, memories of moments we had when we were happy came flooding to me like a slideshow. My fingers stroked over the wood of our door jamb and a small smile lifted my lips.
When we’d received the keys to our first proper grown-up home, Drew insisted on bringing me bridal-style into the house. I'd been giggling incessantly as he imitated some chivalrous Victorian gent bringing his new bride home. He'd carried me down the hallway, intending to dump me on the couch—only to knock my head against the door jamb. He'd almost dropped me in a panic when he heard how loud the bang was. In the end, he had to rush to the store to buy an ice pack since the fridge was empty. I had quite the goose egg the following day. Drew had felt so terrible that he refused to christen the house until the lump went down.
I moved further into the living room and stared at the space where my favorite picture of us used to hang. I wanted to ask where he'd stored it and all our pictures, but I didn't dare.
Being without him for such a long time had me combing through the remains of our relationship. Had I pushed him too hard? Expected too much? He'd been so offended when my dad offered to help us financially. I personally didn't know what the big deal was, so I'd been pretty pissed off at him when he turned my father down. But I respected his feelings, even though I was a little resentful that saving up would take us longer.
And then there was the baby conversation. One I hadn't realized we were never on the same page about. I was in my thirties and wanted to have a baby before I got too old. I'd achieved my dream of having the career I wanted, so the last thing left, apart from buying our own home, was to start a family.
Could I have done anything different? Could I have been more in tune with his reluctance? After all, I was always the one who brought up the topic, he never initiated the conversation. Would it have made a difference? Or would we have always ended up this way?
My hand caressed the marble of our fireplace, saying one last farewell to the room.
My hand dropped in a panic when I heard the front door open. I hoped it was our landlord—until I heard the steps. I recognized those steps.
I turned when he came into view, my heart still skipping that same beat since the first time I turned around and spotted him standing behind me all those years ago.
His hands dug deep in his pockets. "Hi." He gave me that crooked smile I used to adore. This time, it was tinged with a bit of sadness.
"Hi." My smile mirrored his. "I just came to leave my key."
He rocked in his heels and glanced around. "Same. And to see this place one last time."
I nodded. "We had some good times here."
I hadn't seen or spoken to Drew since the day I moved out a few of my stuff. His speech about all his regrets had cut me deep. I'd had to pull over because I was crying so hard. It had been everything I wanted to hear from him and more. It also solidified what I'd always known.
I wasn't crazy.
He had been pulling away. He had been entertaining the attentions of Carly. If he'd admitted this all before we separated or even during the early stages of our separation, I would've seriously considered the possibility of reconciliation. I would've demanded therapy and a lot of changed behavior. And if his actions showed that he was sincere, then I would've tried to wade through the hurt and betrayal.
But it was too little too late now. He'd lied to me one too many times, so by the time I'd gone to Mexico, I was a shattered shell of myself. I'd given up.
"We had amazing memories here." His gaze dropped from mine as his throat bobbed. "Ones I'll remember for the rest of my life."
I rolled my lips in. I didn't want to cry. I'd cried so much I didn't think I had any tears left to give. I wanted to take one last look upstairs, but I was thankful he was here right now. I didn't want to see our bedroom one last time.
I dug into my pocket and took out my keys. I snaked the distinctive gold key out of my keychain before placing it on the mantel. "Well…this is it."
I couldn't turn around. That small clink of my key on the mantel felt like a gavel smashing down on our life. We were returning our keys, but unlike I'd envisioned, we were leaving in separate directions. We still had a divorce to sort through, but this was the first step to severing our lives together.
"Frankie." Drew's hoarse voice cut close to me.
I turned with a sob, and he was instantly there, pulling me close. His big arms had always felt safe, so knowing he’d been the cause of my hurt was a painful truth I’d yet to come to terms with.
But at that moment, I didn't care. I needed him. One last time. His arms surrounded me, and even though he surely could feel my small bump against his front, he never once tensed or pulled away. He held me like he always did. Tightly, yet tenderly. Like he never wanted to let me go.
A long time later, I pulled back from him. Evidently, I had a few tears left that needed to expel themselves.
“Frankie…is there any way…”
I glanced up at him. His eyes were red, his face pale. "Any way, what?"
He clasped my hands. "Is there any way you would consider marriage counseling?"
I closed my eyes and stepped back. But he refused to let my hands go. I turned my head. "Drew…"
"You have every right to be pissed at me. I should've gotten my shit together a long time ago. But I know that if I let you walk away without trying one last time, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."
My mouth softened, and fresh tears sprung. I shook my head slowly, wanting to cushion the blow. "Drew, so much has happened."
I smoothed a hand over my stomach, a habit I'd started doing. I didn't do it to hurt him, but he'd caught the movement and flinched. He was devastated by this pregnancy. Even if I thought we could work it out, I had my child to consider now. Drew never wanted kids, so to have his estranged wife pregnant with another man's? It didn't make sense. The resentment would build, and my child would end up damaged.
"Plus, even if I wanted to work things out, we couldn't afford it."
He frowned, his hands still holding mine. "What do you mean?"
"That one session I booked cost me $190, and that was just the initial meeting price."
His face reddened at the reminder of that disastrous therapy session. I'd thought the cost had been worth it at the time.
"I can't afford to keep paying that."
"I'll pay it."
I shook my head, finally dropping my hands from his. "You've moved in with Sene, and I know you're looking for a place. You can't afford it either."
"It's worth it. This is worth it."
"I can't."
His brown eyes swirled in hurt and disappointment.
"I'm sorry, but this is all coming too late. I'm very vulnerable right now, so when I think about what you've put me through—having to go through all that—it stresses me out. And I've cried enough over you, and I don't want to keep doing it…especially in my condition," I delicately finished.
His mouth opened and closed, before settling in frustration. But I could also see his acceptance in how his tense shoulders slumped.
He reached for my hands again, squeezing them. "Then will you do me one last thing?"
I eyed him warily. "What?"
"Don't start the divorce proceedings yet until after you…give birth."
I tilted my head. "Why?"
"Sene told me that you wanted to have a home birth with a certified home birth midwife. I looked into it, and my insurance partially covers it. If we divorce or start proceedings, you'll be removed from my health coverage."
"Drew…"
He lifted my hands and kissed them, his lips lingering. "Let me do this for you. It's one thing you don't have to worry about. Please."
I thought about it for a moment. A home birth was something my mom had with me in Hawai'i with a traditional Hawaiian midwife. I had photos of my beautiful mama holding me after giving birth in my grandmother's bathroom. It was something I'd always wanted to do, giving birth in a safe environment surrounded by things I loved. With someone I loved. I wasn't too proud to accept his offer, so I nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Drew."
"You deserve so much more than what I put you through."
"Our marriage was amazing…it was just the end. I didn't know you anymore. I didn't like who you became."
"I hated who I became. And I'll regret losing you forever."