Chapter 25
Odette
It took me a while to pry myself from Murphy's embrace, but I had to. I needed time to come to terms with how I felt about everything. I knew there was more that I wanted—no, needed— to ask, but I didn’t want to push it tonight.
The feelings were so raw for both of us.
I was treating our situation like an onion, peeling one layer back at a time; maybe that would help with the tears.
Once I was able to get myself together enough to stand from Murphys lap, I told him I needed some time to myself to think about it all, and even though I saw what I’m pretty sure was terror at letting me go, he didn’t make a single remark trying to get me to stay.
He bowed his head. “Whatever you need, Odette, I’ll be here.”
It took almost everything I had in me to walk away from the broken man that stood before me; I itched to take away his pain because it felt so much like mine had. And while the revelations of everything hurt, it almost felt like they were healing as well .
And that thought was why I needed to head out, so with a brief parting hug so I wouldn’t get sucked in again, and a mumble of messaging him in a few days, I made a quick exit to my car.
My mind raced on the way home, dissecting how I was feeling.
An overwhelming part of me felt a bit insane that I felt better after hearing what Murphy had to say.
I believed him that it wasn’t some huge love affair .
It didn’t make what he did any less wrong; in fact, in some ways it made it worse, but I found that I was no longer angry.
Maybe it was because I could feel the pain that surrounded him, I could hear the sorrow when he spoke to me—it radiated from every part of his being, from his words to his facial expressions to the look in his eyes.
Maybe it was because he no longer lived in the house; maybe it was realizing that the Murphy who just poured his soul out to me was a different man from the one I divorced.
Maybe it was a mixture of everything, creating the perfect recipe.
..a recipe for forgiveness, if you will.
Seeing Wynn’s car in the drive brought me a sense of relief. She’ll tell me if I’m insane for how I’m feeling.
“Wynn?” I hollered the second I passed the threshold. “Wynn! Are you here?”
I heard footsteps and then she appeared. “Where’s the fire?”
She was wearing her glasses, a comfy T-shirt, and yoga pants—the glasses indicated that she was catching up on some work.
“You busy?”
“Not really. One of the newest hires royally fucked up some kind of contract. It seems I’ll be leaving town to fix it in a few days, and it might take a while…” She looked at me rather guiltily. “I know you’re going through a lot with Murphy right now; I can have them send someone else.”
“Absolutely not. I’m an adult, Wynn; I can take care of myself. Plus, I can always call you if I need you.”
“Still,” she shrugged, “I have this weird feeling that I should be here.”
I rolled my eyes at her. I knew it was just her guilty conscience—she’d always been this way, putting my needs above hers.
“I’d be more upset if you stayed,” I offered and I saw her shoulders deflate, knowing she was going on the trip.
“But since you’re here now, can we talk about the dinner I had with Murphy?”
Wynn’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together. “I’ll get the wine!”
“Do you ever think we drink too much wine, Wynn?”
“Honey, your life has been like a soap opera lately, no amount of wine would be enough.”
Despite the heaviness of the evening, I was feeling this lightness that had started to settle and seep in.
“Kitchen?” I hollered out to Wynn's retreating form.
“No, let’s get comfy in the living room.”
Slipping my shoes off, I hurried to my room to change into a comfier outfit before meeting Wynn. She handed me a large glass of wine, and I couldn’t help but chuckle and take a swig.
She wiggled her body in impatience. “Spill.” She sat, not even touching her drink while she listened, totally engrossed in what I had to say.
I saw her features soften when I told her about how he served dinner, the anger over the affair, the sadness when I explained how I felt his regret and self-loathing.
At some point, her hand grabbed mine, and we cried together.
“How are you feeling?” she asked once I was finished.
“Anything you can feel, I probably feel it.” I smiled a watery smile at her.
She huffed a laugh at me. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Is it weird that a part of me feels... relieved? I believe what he said that there had been no one else. While I don’t necessarily understand it, it’s…it’s…”
“It’s what?”
I was growing frustrated with myself because it was hard to articulate what I was feeling, because a part of me wanted to say, it’s in the past , and while it’s not okay—no part of what happened was okay—it helped me grow into a stronger version of myself.
I’m better than I was before . It helped me grow and grow up, and while I wished it never happened, I could see my growth.
“It’s time to start over.”
Her teary gaze met mine and she nodded, a ghost of a smile on her face. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I think it means, whatever happens, happens. Do you think I’m stupid?”
She snapped her head to me. “You. Are. Not. Stupid. Odette. If you choose to try again with Murphy, that doesn’t make you stupid. That doesn’t make you less than. It makes you brave; it makes you strong. ”
“I’ve changed so much because of what happened, for the better. I’m starting to believe and see that’s what happened to Murphy as well. He’s changed because of what happened, and I want to get to know who he is now. I can’t…”
“You can't do what?” Wynn squeezed my hand in support.
“I kept asking myself if I could. If I could live without him for the rest of my life, and I can’t, Wynn…
I just can’t. And I don’t want to.” Tears leaked out of my eyes.
I don’t want to live without Murphy. That thought toppled me.
I don’t want to. Not that I couldn’t, not that I can’t, because I could and I have, but I don’t want to.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered again.
Wynn nodded at me while I let that revelation wash over me.
I didn’t want to.