Chapter 13 Indiana
Indiana
My heart is still racing as we drive away from the firehouse.
While we head over to her place, Kalli keeps looking over, making sure I’m not going to break down and cry.
I hold it in until Noah gets out of the car.
The minute I reach back and unbuckle him, he leaps out of the car and runs inside to see Julian and Vivienne.
I stay back and finally break down. I didn’t think I was going to be this emotional over finally asking for a divorce from Tyler, but apparently, I was holding back. But the second the first tear falls, a dam breaks and Kalli holds me as I let go.
It feels like I’m letting go of my past. Not just a piece of Tyler, but a piece of myself is being erased with this entire relationship. It’s not like we were anything other than something completely fake. He married me to make my life easier and I accepted.
Now I’m stronger and my tears are a way of shedding that layer of my past. It feels like I’m saying a final goodbye to the girl I was—the one who had a brother, who had a boy that showed this version of himself that held the possibility of love and who was naive and never thought life could hold so much pain.
There are so many layers to why I’ve held onto this marriage and now it’s all coming to the forefront of my thoughts.
It’s causing me to have a slew of feelings and the emotional toll it’s taking on me feels crippling at times.
I know I’ll have to confess everything to Tyler at some point, yet I don’t know how to put it all into words when the day comes.
Once I leave Kalli’s place, I’m calmer. On the drive home, Noah and I stop to grab supplies to make homemade pizzas—his favorite meal.
I grab my signature toppings—ham and pineapple.
I watch Noah cringe as I put everything on my personalized pizza, savoring his snarky remarks because my brother did the same thing.
Noah is exactly like his dad, enjoying black olives and pepperoni.
We finish putting the pizzas in the oven and we’re currently picking a movie for the night. “Can we watch one of my dad’s favorite movies tonight?” Noah asks as he scrolls through our streaming service.
“Of course. Can I see the remote?” I motion for the controller.
I find the movie I’m thinking of and press play. The opening credits begin and I see Noah’s face light up when the realization dawns on him. He’s seen this movie dozens of times, but I’ve never admitted to him that Bryce loved this movie.
“My dad loved this one? Just like me?” His eyes are big with amazement.
“Yep, just like you,” I smile as I push back the lump in my throat. This day has been full of emotion, but at least right now it’s a good feeling knowing I’ll feel my brother’s presence surround us as we eat pizza and hear familiar sounds of his favorite characters on the screen.
“No one likes The Phantom Menace! We liked the same Star Wars movie.” My brother’s mini looks absolutely delighted at the revelation.
He falls back on the couch and pulls Darth close to him. Our cat cuddles him, which is unusual for a feline. I can’t help the smile that creeps up on my face, taking in the sweet sight.
The night continues on, our bellies filled, and Noah continually teasing me about my topping choices as he looks over at the pineapple on my plate. I tickle him each time he makes a comment, and he attempts to do the same to me, but I block him with a pillow.
I see his eyes getting heavy as we get close to the end of the movie. Noah tries to fight bedtime, but I promise him he can finish the movie tomorrow. Luckily, he understands he needs sleep after the long day he’s had and I’m able to get him ready for bed quickly.
After I close his bedroom door, I move down the hall and downstairs toward the kitchen. That’s when the realization hits me of the mess we made with dinner. These are the moments I’m hit with how exhausting being a single parent is. But no matter how tiring it is, Noah is worth it.
I move through the kitchen, washing the dishes and wiping down the countertops until everything is back in its place. Once everything is finished, I grab a glass of wine. My mind wanders back to Tyler and all the emotions that have crept in since we saw one another this afternoon.
His stormy-blue eyes keep coming back to me and all I think about is the fact that he’s now the one with this airiness surrounding him, while I’m the one carrying this storm cloud over my head.
He’s to blame for my anger; and now these walls are built to protect myself all due to his heartless ways. I can’t let him hurt me again.
That’s why this divorce has to happen, but at the same time, it means digging up things I’ve pushed aside for so long.
I throw the dish rag I’ve been holding on to the kitchen counter with added irritation and start walking out of the room, slamming the light switch off, as if it’s deserving of my anger.
Luckily, I don’t spill the wine because my movements are lacking any grace.
We can’t keep letting this lingering frustration follow us. It’s not healthy for me. I can’t move on if I don’t put this thing with Tyler to bed. We need to move on from here.
Then why does it hurt so bad? Why did I cry like my heart would never recover when I was in Kalli’s car?
Walking to my room, I deposit my wine glass on my bedside table, and move straight into my closet. I know exactly where my feet are leading me. I see the box that’s followed me through every move. I pull down the simple square box down, pushing the dust off the lid.
I return to my bed and dump the contents on the mattress. I haven’t opened it in years. I still remember the last time I closed all my journals inside, promising myself I wouldn’t look back. As if I would unlock all the pain if I simply tipped the lid open slightly.
But I feel compelled to revisit my words, just for old time’s sake. Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment.
Riffling through the papers, I see other things, like the gold band from years ago, the tattered green bracelet I wore, along with the letters he sent me. There’s even a highlighted book I never sent him.
It’s like looking through a time capsule, if I’m being honest. I sift through everything, looking for the journal I labeled with the oldest date. It’s remarkable I kept these for so long, a part of me never feeling like I could part with the feelings that I wrote down on these worn pages.
I finally find what I’m looking for, the year scribbled on the front. I pull it out and open the composition book, the cover creaking from underuse. I glide my hand down the front page, feeling the indentations of paper where the pen creased along the notebook.
I feel the lump forming in my throat, emotion pouring in as I think back at how raw and real everything between Tyler and I has always been. Even now, I know he’s the only person I’ve ever really given my heart to. Since that day five years ago, I’ve put walls up.
I know I’m the one that’s become closed off and distant with anyone since him. Every relationship I’ve had never felt right because I’ve found an excuse to find a flaw.
I touch my cheek to feel the moisture from a lone tear that has escaped.
Wiping it, I compose myself and finally look down to read the words I once wrote about a life that feels so distant and forgotten.
The girl that wrote them doesn’t even remind me of the person I see today in the reflection in the mirror.
August 8, 2015
Dear Journal,
I’ve never been a girl that wrote in a diary or a journal, so this feels a little weird for me. But I’m reading a contemporary romance and the character keeps writing in a journal, so I thought I’d try it out.
I’ve always had a lot of girlfriends growing up, but life got a little chaotic for me after high school graduation and I sort of started walking my own path. I distanced myself from them and we lost touch. I miss having people to talk to, and living alone is really isolating.
I’m feeling more and more disconnected from my past life in Nevada since I found out my parents adopted me.
I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m living in limbo since that night.
My entire life I’ve felt so comfortable in my skin, only to find out it was all a lie—at least that’s how it feels for me currently.
I do still feel a close connection to Bryce. My brother makes me laugh and gets how controlling my parents are, especially with me. But now we are living so far apart, with me being in Chicago and him in Oregon, we will barely see one another. It’s just hard figuring out life on my own.
The only other person I feel who knows me is Tyler, funny enough.
We are worlds apart, but at the same time, he understands a side of me I don’t have to explain.
He talks to me, not through me like everyone else in my life seems to—in letters, which feels more intimate.
We’re married, which is a secret only my brother knows.
But it’s not even for love; we’re married because I needed insurance so I could care for myself.
He’s just that kind of a person—not that anyone would guess that from looking at him.
He’s brooding and sort of intimidating if you look at him.
He scowls a lot. He rode a motorcycle in high school and it was sort of hot, if you ask me.
Every girl swooned over him. I won’t lie, even I couldn’t ignore how electrifying it was to see him walk by.
He’s got a presence about him. But it scared my parents, me being around him.
We are polar opposites—me being valedictorian and him being the ultimate bad boy.
I haven’t seen him in over a year. He’s in the Army, so he’s not around to visit. But the letters are something I cherish when I do receive them.
He’s the one who pushed me to be independent and step away from my parents financially.
If it weren’t for his confidence in me, I don’t know if I would have had the courage.
I moved to a new state and cut myself off from them, instead of going to California and attending the college they chose for me.
They wanted me to follow in their footsteps, going to the same university as them for medical school.
I would have lived out their dreams, versus having dreams of my own.
My parents love me, there’s no doubt. But many of their aspirations have felt like ones they’ve wanted me to live for them.
I started to reflect on the fact they never really asked me what I wanted out of life.
Once I moved out and financially cut ties, I realized I had very different dreams than my parents put on me.
Studying medicine wasn’t something I ever wanted for myself.
Now that I’ve gotten a taste for the publishing world, I might want to be an author one day.
Seeing my name sprawled across the cover of a book sounds exciting to me.
I could see myself as a best-selling suspense author or something along those lines.
It thrills me to think about and that’s what a career should be.
If it weren’t for Tyler Hunter, I would be living someone else’s dream. I’d possibly be resentful and likely hurting. As much as many around me in high school thought he had this rough exterior, he’s only shown me a softer side. My parents misjudged him, pushing him out of my life.
But since he’s been back in mine, all he’s shown me is this tenderness that fills me with anticipation when I see his writing sprawled across an envelope.
I’m starting to realize that with each letter he writes, maybe this marriage isn’t fake after all. I think I’m starting to catch feelings and it’s becoming a little more real with each stamp I put on those dang envelopes.
I close the journal abruptly, my heart pounding with the memory of writing those words. I remember my heart opening up to him so easily that summer and I never questioned how carefree it was for me back then. I welcomed my feelings for Tyler, without question.
I shove the journal away, my heart feeling the confusion of the day tugging at it in multiple directions, but my mind is completely set on the fact this divorce is necessary.
I need to move on or I won’t be able to give Noah the future he deserves; even if in some way, it goes against what my brother wanted.
Then again, my brother didn’t have a full picture of what was to come.
I’m no longer going to have this hanging over me.
Tyler Hunter is not going to be the person holding my heart any longer, not even a morsel of it.