38
“Wait, where’s Adam?” Sadie says.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I scream internally.
I’ve been asked that question, I think, a hundred freaking times in the last few months.
I told Adam to stay away from me at Sam’s wedding and he’s listened.
Then he got the papers.
Once Adam’s lawyers got involved and started making demands and taking ages and ages with every small change, I told Adam to stay away from the family too. I can’t see him anymore. It’s just too hard. He looks friendly, he smiles at family and plays with the boys. And with me? It’s all one-syllable words and pissy frowns.
But it’s noticeable now. I’ve made excuse after excuse. Chickened out. I thought it would be easier. I thought just trying to hide the separation, the fighting, the pain would be easier than telling my sisters the truth. But I just cannot take it anymore.
We are standing in a back kitchen at this fancy Canton event. Sadie turned her epic love story with Shep, which did have a happy ending after all, into a novel. Tonight they announced the upcoming movie adaptation and a new entertainment division for Canton International. It’s been a fun, happy night. For everyone else.
But a few minutes ago our security team huddled us into this back room.
The tension is thick and everyone is confused.
Adam had to put his arm around me for the one family photo earlier. It still feels so right, so comforting. Which pissed me off. I don’t want to want him anymore! Then he asked if I was all right, studied me like he still cared, like he hasn’t been dragging on negotiations and protesting everything I’ve proposed through the lawyers. I just walked away from him without answering.
“Yeah, Did Adam leave?” Sam asks.
I sigh, staring at the wall. I shrug before saying plainly, “Adam and I got divorced.”
“Wait, WHAT?!” Sadie, Skye, Sam, and Sal all shriek together.
Something else is said, Sally faints. The security team tells us we have a stalker.
A stalker.
Great.
I can’t feel or think. I’m not sure all my senses are working. Is it cold in here? Shouldn’t I smell food in a kitchen?
I read this can happen with depression.
I also read the list of ideas to get myself out of said depression. I found another list for how to bounce back after divorce. I printed the best ideas out and put them on my desk at my office.
I haven’t crossed off a single one.
Surely, someday, I will.
I’ll bounce back.
I’ll move on.
Maybe I’ll be able to start over.
To actually date again.
To find happiness.
To find love.
Not today…but someday.
_____
“C’mon, Michael. Just two bites of something green. You have to eat your veggies or you won’t grow big and—.”
My phone interrupts us.
Sadie?
Weird, she’s at a gala right now. Her new entertainment division of the business donated to the children’s hospital. She and my younger sisters made a big night of it, dressing up and having a blast with their husbands. Which is why it’s weird she’s calling so early.
“Sadie?” I say, concern evident in my voice. She’s probably rolling her eyes at me.
“Susan.” All the air leaves my lungs at the sound of her shaky voice. “She’s okay. She’s okay but—”
“Who? Who’s okay?”
“Sally’s been shot.”
“Shot?” I say, as my knees give out. I fold down onto the tile floor, clinging to the phone trying to focus on what Sadie is saying.
My body remembers the same motion the day I learned my mother had died. One moment she was with us, loving us, guiding us. One drunk driver later and she was gone.
I fight down the urge to vomit.
“The stalker caught up to us and was aiming for Sam. Nate was in the way and Sally figured it out one second before and she jumped out to protect Nate!”
“She WHAT!”
“He was hit too but they’re going to be okay Susan. She was hit in the shoulder. We called Dad and he’s getting a chopper but Suze, she’s asking for you.”
A sob escapes me. “Okay! Okay.”
“Suzie? Susan!” I hear Adam coming in through the garage.
“I’m coming. I’ve got to go, tell her I’m coming!” I hang up with Sadie at the same time Adam wraps himself around me on the floor.
“She was shot, Adam, she was shot, she—”
“I know. I know but she’s going to be alright, okay? Look at me. Susan, look at me.” He holds my head up. “She’s not gone. She’s still here. It’s not the same, baby. It’s not the same. Breathe. It’s just her shoulder. She’s going to be okay. I’ll take the boys to my mom’s, you’re going to the chopper.”
“I can drive.” I sniff, standing, needing to move, to go.
“No.” He holds my arms, and I grip his biceps for dear life. “I already called a car. You’re not driving, okay?”
“Okay. Okay. Okay.” I can’t stop saying the word or nodding.
“Susan. You’re going to go get our girl. She’s going to be fine.” His voice chokes off on the last word, making me weak.
I start to sob again. “She…she asked for me.” After years of dodging my calls and rolling her eyes and ignoring my texts.
“Of course she did.” He hugs me tight and whispers into my hair.“Now get some shoes on and go. Whatever else you want, text me and I’ll bring a bag okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay. You need me to get your shoes?” He asks, making eye contact. Clearly I’m in some shock.
“N-no.” I start to think clearly. “I’ve got it.”
“K.” He watches me for a second before I pull away.
Change out of sweats
Socks
Shoes
Purse
Phone
Charger
She asked for me.
She’s going to be fine.
Adam will take care of the rest.
_____
He did.
I pass a Bell International truck as I pull into the cafe down the street from the office and it makes me think of him again. It takes me right back to that night in Dallas.
Adam took care of so much. Not just the boys, the house, my bag. He brought a bag for Dad, went by and grabbed things from Sadie’s. Ordered food to the hospital. Sent emails and fielded calls. Stayed with us in the hospital all night.
Hugged each of us, hard. Told Sally everything would be fine in his no-nonsense dad voice. Then gave the very same pep talk to my own father.
Without anyone asking.
Without a single complaint. I don’t think I even saw him yawn.
Peak Adam.
He made Shep laugh and gave Nate this…both welcoming and threatening don’t-eff-this-up hand shake, even though everything is so weird with him and the family right now. He’ll always feel extra protective of Sally and I didn’t miss how she smiled at the exchange.
It was painfully wonderful.
A piercing reminder of who he could be, who he was when he wasn’t bitter and silent. Who he maybe is again now, after almost a year of being separated.
Is he really so much happier without me?
I almost trip thinking that thought as I head into the cafe to get a to-go order for the office.
“Order for Susan please,” I tell the hostess.
“Ah, yes just go to the bar, it’s probably waiting for you.”
“Thanks.”
I move around the hostess stand to the bar at the side of the cafe.
Is he? Happier?
I’m sure as hell not happier without him.
Well, things are maybe…easier? No. Not easier.
Simpler?
Maybe. Life is simpler just me and the boys. Without the cloud that was our marriage, pouring down on all of us. Without our baggage and the tense silence and the long sighs and angry side glances.
But man, how he was last month at the hospital. With me. With Sally. With everyone.
Damn.
It has me thinking maybe if he’s in a better place, a happier place, maybe we could…maybe we could just try talking. Just a conversation before we file the papers and the public learns about our divorce?
Maybe we could—
Adam?
My heart stops.
It is Adam. And he’s laughing. A few tables away.
Head thrown back in a huge laugh, massive shoulders shaking, bright white smile on display in a trimmed, masculine, slightly-graying beard. He’s so happy with…a woman.
He’s with a woman!
I fight the urge to duck or run. A very strong urge.
But he would have to be really looking for me to see me, because it’s dark over here in the bar and there’s a half wall topped with potted plants between us. The restaurant is bright and crowded and loud. He can’t see me.
And I can’t see who he’s with.
She’s petite, thin, with wavy brown hair and a trendy denim jacket that makes me think she’s young. It’s not Regina. Not a single mom from our circles that I recognize either.
Someone new.
Someone who makes him laugh.
Who makes him Peak Adam again.
I should be happy for him. A happy Adam is a better dad to the boys. A more bearable ex-husband. I mean really I should be grateful to this girl for bringing him back to life.
But I’m not a damn grateful self-help leadership 101 positivity robot and so, like a normal human being, I am…
Pissed,
Sad,
Shocked,
Distraught,
And…
Determined.
If Adam—freaking bitter, crusty, joy-sucking Adam?!—can be a happy-go-lucky new guy out on the scene, dating, eating, effing laughing!? Then I can too.
I shoot Jenn a text before grabbing the big bags from the bartender.
It’s a little hard to make out the screen through my building tears.
But I manage.
If anyone can get me back in the game, it’s Jenn.