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Tilly
W hat colour of underwear should I wear?
Not that he’s going to be seeing it tonight, since this is only a first date. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to use one of the popular online dating apps, regardless of how many times my best friend Juliet has taken pictures and made profiles for me. Online dating doesn’t interest me; maybe I’m too old-fashioned to think meeting face-to-face is still the best way to start a relationship.
Or maybe I’m just too old .
After a year and a half of excuses, I have finally agreed to a blind date with Brian—it’s not exactly a blind date since he’s a friend of a friend of Juliet’s boyfriend Bennett, and I’d met him last year at a party, but I didn’t really talk to him then.
Attractive, with a good smile. I did think he had a nice head of hair—thick, in a laid-back yet polished style, something you’d want to run your fingers through during a moment of passion.
At my age, you have to think about these things. Heads of hair, not passion. That has been off my radar for quite some time.
I’ve managed to exist without passion for a while now, to the horror of BF Juliet. She just started seeing someone and wants me to be as happy as she is.
It’s difficult when she’s with Bennett most of the time and so it’s me alone in the world of dating.
It’s a scary place and I haven’t made much headway since the divorce.
In fact, I’ve made no head, or way, at all.
This will be the first time I’ve been out socially with a man since the divorce. Before the divorce, since Carlos had been too busy taking his latest girlfriend out to bother with his wife stuck at home with his children.
I shouldn’t say stuck—I love being a mother to Jade and Jordan. It’s the only thing worthwhile that came from my marriage. I spent the last sixteen years being a mother and I’m very good at it. I should be—I gave up a career, my independence, and it seems like my identity to give Carlos the children he craved.
And it kills me that I don’t have them full-time.
Weekends. I only get them for weekends, Friday to Sunday night. Or Monday mornings when I’ll make the trip across the city to their school.
Carlos kept the house; I moved out and his mistress moved in. Since we didn’t want the girls to switch schools, I agreed that my girls would live with their father during the week.
It carved out my heart to leave them behind.
The only saving grace is that Carlos is a great father—much better than a husband. After a very awkward transition period, the girls actually seem to get along with Heidi.
There’s no point being bitter or resentful about that. I just want to make it easier for my daughters.
It’s Thursday night; they’ll come to me tomorrow afternoon for the long weekend before school starts. And Carlos is allowing me to take them to school on Tuesday or else this would be the first First Day of School that I’ve missed.
Jordan is joining her big sister in high school, and I want to be there for that. It’s only saying goodbye to them from the car with no hugs or kisses or any shows of affection, but it’s something and these days, I take what I can get.
And after I drop them off of school and say goodbye until Friday night, what then?
I don’t want to think about that right now. I’ve got tonight to get through first.
Pink underwear and matching bra; not too bold, or sexy, or like I’m expecting anything. Because I’m not.
I mean, I’d like to have sex, but I’m not expecting much from this date. Brian has good hair but I don’t know what else about him will excite me.
I wonder if anyone will ever see one of my matching sets of undergarments again.
Carlos always insisted on flimsy, lacy panties and bra when we were married. He used to like to rip the panties off—literally rip the scrap of material holding the front and back triangles during sex.
It’s not as sexy as it seems.
And it always left me with a leftover bra, so when I found ones I liked, I would buy a good supply of panties to match. Bikinis, only—thongs were for loose women, according to Carlos.
I can’t wait until he finds out both of his daughters prefer to wear thongs under their leggings.
I doubt he’ll find out; the girls have been helping me with the laundry since I started working again, and Carlos wouldn’t know how to work a washing machine if his life depended on it.
Underwear decided, I pull on a printed blue dress that hugs my chest and waist and flares out over my hips, leaving my arms bare. I look good because I have worked hard to keep my figure and not succumb to the over forty bulges. Yoga, Pilates, spinning class—Carlos’s request.
“If you’re not doing much during the day, then stick to the gym, keep that body tight for me.” Then he would smack my ass, and later that night, rip off my panties in a fit of masculine dominance that he thought I enjoyed.
I did not enjoy being dominated.
Maybe by someone else, because when your husband has full control of your life outside the bedroom, it gets a little old when his rule stays in the bedroom as well.
No more thinking of Carlos. It’s been almost two years since he left and twenty months of therapy for me to be able to announce unequivocally that I’m over him.
I am no longer in love with my ex-husband. I am able to live my life without him. That involves finding a job for my benefit—not for the money, because Carlos still pays for everything. I may be his ex-wife, but I’m still considered family, and it would not do for Carlos to have his family want for anything.
I took a contract that allowed me to work online, helping script a video game. And then I tried ghost-writing a fantasy book for kids. Before I had the kids, I worked with a gaming company to come up with profiles and storylines for their games. I’m not ready to go back full-time, but the work I’m contracted to do keeps me busy, and will give me time to go back to school.
Tuesday is also my first day of school.
I don’t know what’s causing me more stress—the almost blind date with Brian, or the thought of sitting in a lecture hall with a hundred kids who are only a few years older than my daughter and will undoubtedly look at me like I’m some sort of intruder, like an elf who wanders into an Orc convention.
As bad as that seems, it’s not as bad as the stress I’m feeling over this date.
Now that I’m ready, I really don’t feel like going. The urge to stay home is so strong that I reach back to undo the buttons at the neck of my dress.
Before I manage to undo them, I stop and reach for my phone.
Me: Hey…
Juliette: Tilly! Do not cancel this date! You’re going out with Brian tonight unless you’re throwing up like you did back in high school when we drank all that tequila.
Juliette: I’ll know if you bail.
Juliette: if you are ever throwing up that much, call and I’ll come hold your hair back.
Juliette is my best friend in the whole world. If she set this up, the least I can do is go through with it.
Who knows? Maybe there’s more to him than just good hair.