Eighteen #2
Free. It's funny. I've wanted that word for months. Now that I've got it… I'm not entirely sure what to do with it. I type back.
Thank you for everything, Clara. I honestly couldn't have done this without you.
Short and simple. If I start saying more, I'll probably cry. I hit send before I can overthink it. The house falls quiet again. I pick up my phone. Open my messages. Find Alexander.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard. What exactly is the appropriate text after legally ending a thirteen-year marriage?
Hey. Guess who's officially divorced.
No. Too cheerful.
It's done.
Too clinical.
I'm free.
Too dramatic. God. Why is texting harder than signing legal documents? I try again.
It's all finished.
I stare at it. Delete it. Start again.
Everything's signed.
Delete. One more try.
Officially divorced.
Nope. Absolutely not. Eventually I sigh and let myself stop trying to sound clever.
It's done. We signed everything today.
A few seconds pass. Then I add another message.
I thought I'd feel relieved. Instead I just feel… weird.
I hit send before I can edit it into emotional oblivion. The little "Delivered" appears almost instantly. I set my phone face down on the counter.
For a long moment… I just stand there. One hand wrapped around a mug of cold tea. The other resting absent-mindedly against the curve of my stomach. Divorced. Pregnant. Dating the father of my baby.
If someone had pitched me this plot six months ago… I'd have rejected it for being completely unbelievable.
Yet… Here I am. Still standing.
The reply comes back three minutes later.
Is strange the bad kind or the other kind?
The three little dots appear almost immediately.
How are you feeling?
I smile. Not because it's a particularly remarkable question. Because he didn't ask how the meeting went. Or whether I'd won. Or if Ethan caused a scene. He asked about me. I type back.
Honestly?
A few seconds pass before I add another message.
I'm not really sure.
His reply comes almost instantly as he asks again.
Is it a good strange or a bad strange?
I huff out a quiet laugh. Trust a lawyer to ask for clarification. I look around the kitchen. The sink is empty. Leo's lunchbox is drying beside it. My handbag is still sitting on the bench where I dropped it after getting home. Everything looks… Exactly the same. Except nothing is.
I type.
The good kind… I think.
This time he takes a little longer. Just long enough for me to wonder whether he's choosing his words carefully.
I'm glad.
Another bubble appears.
Call me if you need me.
Not…
Call me if you're upset.
Or…
Call me if you're lonely.
Just…
If you need me.
Something in my chest pinches slightly. I don't answer straight away. For once, nobody is demanding anything from me. No lawyers. No deadlines. No school notes. No decisions that have to be made tonight.
I rest my hand against the gentle curve of my stomach. Today… I signed the papers ending thirteen years of my life. And somehow… Instead of feeling empty… I just feel… Lighter. Not healed. Not completely okay. Just. Lighter.
My eyes drift closed for a moment. I don't mean to fall asleep.
Three sharp knocks at the front door make me jump so hard I nearly drop my phone where I am still managing to hold it whilst maintaining an upright position on the couch. Weird.
My heart launches into my throat before my brain has time to catch up. I'm already on my feet. Years of midnight nightmares, sick children and unexpected visitors have apparently trained my body to react before my mind does.
I glance towards the front door. Then the clock. Who on earth is knocking at this hour?
Three sharp knocks come again. Then the unmistakable sound of someone trying my front door anyway.
"It isn't locked!" I call.
"It should be!" Liv yells back as she lets herself in.
She appears carrying a bottle of wine under one arm, wearing a jacket large enough to survive an Antarctic expedition and the expression of someone who has been physically vibrating with gossip for at least an hour.
"You look awful," she says by way of greeting.
"I've had a long day."
"You look like you've had several."
"Thank you. You flatter me."
"I try."
She drops onto one of the kitchen stools and places the wine on the bench with a dramatic flourish.
"So."
I already know that tone.
"What?" She narrows her eyes at my tone.
"You first." I sigh at her redirection, I am not awake enough for this.
"It's done." She softens immediately.
"The papers?" I nod.
"All signed."
"And?"
I think about it. Really think about it.
"It was… easier than I expected."
"No screaming?"
"No."
"No dramatic declarations of undying regret?"
"Sadly not."
"No throwing office furniture?" I smile at that mental image of lobbing an office chair at Ethan’s head.
"No."
"Damn." She says but still reaches across the bench and squeezes my hand.
"I'm proud of you." Those four words are so simple and yet completely unexpected.
They almost undo me. Instead, I clear my throat.
"You've definitely got news."
"Oh." She actually bounces.
"I have news."
"I knew it."
"Luca called me."
"When doesn't Luca call you?"
"He said I wasn't allowed to tell you over text because apparently this qualifies as 'premium gossip.'"
I blink at that. This sounds uncomfortably dramatic.
"I'm almost scared."
"You should be."
She leans forward.
"Ethan got fired."
It takes me a minute to process her words. And then, because I am supremely elegant…
"What?"
"He got fired."
"No…"
"Yes."
"No."
She grins.
"Apparently Tessa's complaint wrapped up this afternoon." The smile slips from my face.
"Oh."
"There were emails." She holds up one finger.
"Messages." Another finger.
"Company policy violations." A third.
"And let's just say sleeping with your secretary while lying through your teeth isn't considered excellent leadership."
I stare at the kitchen bench. My first feeling isn't satisfaction. Or revenge.
It's… like a passive sort of fascination. Such a strange and detached feeling towards the man whose life was entwined with mine for so long.
"I thought I'd feel happier," I admit quietly. Liv watches me for a moment.
"You don't feel happy at this?" I shake my head.
"No."
"He'll get another job."
"Probably."
"He'll blame someone else."
"Definitely." I pick up my glass but don't drink.
"It doesn't change what happened though."
"No."
"It doesn't give Leo his family back."
"No."
"It doesn't make me feel…" I search for the word. "…better."
Liv nods slowly.
"That's because you already won." I frown at that.
"What?"
"You survived." She shrugs. "The job was just collateral damage."
That… makes sense in a strange way. I hadn't thought about it like that. She raises her wine glass.
"To officially being rid of him." I hesitate only a second before clinking my mug against her glass.
"To never sitting through another mediation."
"I'll drink to that."
We both do. The silence afterwards isn't awkward. It's comfortable. The kind you only earn after years of friendship. Eventually Liv smiles into her wine.
"So…" I know that tone.
"What?"
"The lawyer." I groan.
"Oh, don't."
"Did you text him?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"I told him everything was signed."
"And?"
"He asked if I was okay." Liv smiles so widely I'm surprised her face doesn't split in half.
"I like him."
"I know."
"I really, really like him."
"I know."
"He adores you." Heat creeps into my cheeks.
"It hasn’t been that long though."
"Exactly."
"That's not enough time to adore me."
"It's plenty." I laugh.
"You're impossible."
"I've been called worse." She finishes her wine before standing.
"I should go."
"You've got work tomorrow."
"So do you." She hugs me tightly at the door.
"I'm serious, Harp."
"I know."
"You survived."
After she leaves, the house settles around me once more. I pick up my phone. Alexander's last message is still sitting there.
Call me if you need me.
I smile. Then decide to send another.
Today was weird.
A reply arrives less than a minute later.
Tomorrow will probably be a little easier.
Maybe he's right. Maybe tomorrow… Can just be tomorrow.