Chapter 21 #2
He props his elbows on the table. “I had a couple of good trips after that. A short one to Virginia especially. Then four years ago, a bunch of us went to California. I got drunk on the plane after being told I had to give up control in order to relax and that this trip would prepare me for longer ones in the future. Thankfully, the six-hour flight was smooth. I slept through some of it. But on the way back to Rhode Island, we caught a storm. The plane couldn’t land.
The pilot had to circle the airport. When he finally saw an opening to land, he made a surprise nosedive so we didn’t run out of gas.
I thought I was having a heart attack on the way down.
All I could think about was my one-year-old son.
If I died, I’d miss his whole life, and he’d grow up without a father.
I finally understood why my mom was so paranoid whenever either of us got on a plane.
Everyone says it’s a stupid fear, that the probabilities of a crash are slim, but it is what it is.
” He shrugs. “Anyway, let’s move on from this one. ”
I don’t want to move on. I thought I knew everything I could know about him back then.
Turns out, there was something he was embarrassed to tell me.
Some nights since our breakup, I’d lay awake and try to imagine his life, what cool things he’d done, if there was anything he regretted.
I felt like a masochist because it hurt to know we’d keep making memories without each other.
But with him across from me now, the energy between us feels more open than it has in so long, and I’m happy there are things to learn.
“We can move on, but it’s not stupid,” I say.
“I can’t imagine having a child and being scared like that.
But I can empathize with fears. Even though my house burned down two decades ago, I still check that every Airbnb I stay at has proper fire safety.
I’m careful cooking at home, and I’ve only just started regularly using candles again a few years ago.
The probability of me being caught in a burning building twice is extremely low, but it is what it is. ”
He studies me, then says, “Do you still have bad dreams?”
“Rarely now,” I say. “I’ve worked through a lot with therapy over the years, so I’d say things are getting better for me, and maybe they will for you too. The Philippines would be nice, but for now, I won’t tease you about any fears.”
“How magnanimous of you,” he says, a smile on his face.
“I try to be a good ruler,” I say, taking a small bow.
He laughs. “What’s something you want to do before you die, my queen?”
The term of endearment from his mouth sends sexy images to my mind and a rush of heat between my thighs. “Get a tattoo,” I say. “But…”
“You’re still scared of needles?” he asks, and I remember telling him about being in the hospital after the fire. How much they poked and prodded me. How it was almost scarier than the actual fire at that age.
“I’ve had plenty of time and experience to get over that fear,” I say, thinking of all the endometriosis testing over the years.
“Supercharged ones that tattoo the skin? Not so much. But it’s not the needles that scare me.
I’m afraid of committing to something and regretting it later.
” He gives me a curious look, and I wonder if he’s connecting it to some other ways I haven’t committed.
My therapist sure would. “I change my mind about getting one constantly, which is probably a product of my ADHD.”
His tone is soft when he asks, “You ended up getting diagnosed?”
“I did,” I say, thinking of how we’d joke about my impulsivity and forgetfulness, among other things.
“Has it helped now that you know?”
“I feel like it has,” I say. “Recognizing patterns and having tools that can help with certain tendencies makes most of my days easier. And accepting that my brain might work a little differently makes me gentler on myself when I’m all over the place.”
“Gentle is good,” he says.
“Gentle is necessary,” I agree. “Anyway…hit me with the question in your hand, sir.”
He holds the card up and reads, “What’s something you learned about yourself during a past relationship?”
I chuckle because the universe really wants to make this awkward. “This particular deck might be weird for us. Are you sure you don’t want to try the astrology one?”
“Does what you learned have to do with our relationship, Olivia?”
“Actually,” I say, blowing out a breath, “I was going to admit that when I first started dating Michael, I thought I would grow to want biological kids, but I’m not sure pregnancy is something I ever want to experience.
What I do know is I don’t want to feel forced to be someone that I’m not just because I’m in a relationship.
Toward the end of our marriage, Michael liked to remind me that I wasn’t meeting his new-to-me expectations.
That being said, when I filed for divorce, I hoped we’d be able to be civil, maybe even friends eventually.
Instead he laughed in my face and said hurtful things.
I realized some of them were true, but I can’t control what he feels or how he sees me.
And I guess I have a hard time letting go of that control, but I’m working on it. ”
“What would you say to him if you were friends right now?” Carmello asks.
“I think I’d tell him congratulations because he’s having a baby,” I say.
Carmello’s eyes bloom slightly. They’re quick to settle into their normally narrow shape, but he still searches my face. “Were you in love with him?”
“That isn’t a question on the cards,” I say, shifting in my seat. “And isn’t it your turn?”
He doesn’t let up. “It’s something I’ve been wondering since you said you got divorced.”
My face flushes, but I try not to be delusional about why he’s been wondering that. “I think I grew to love him,” I finally say, “but I never fell in love with him, if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Carmello says. “Is that why you think it didn’t work in the end?”
“No,” I say. “There’s more than one way to love someone.
But I still think there has to be some sparks.
I didn’t have the urge to be close to him.
Every time I went away for a work trip, I realized I didn’t miss him.
I don’t think he missed me either. I think he just loved the idea of having someone.
Maybe we were both lonely, because so did I. Too bad it ended the way it did.”
The conversation is more raw than I was anticipating, and I’m not sure if I had to give Carmello that deep of an explanation. He looks so serious when he says, “So, you traumatized yourself ending things badly with me and now you want to be friends with all of your exes?”
“Is that what you’re taking from this?” I ask.
“Sounds like your poor ego needs stroking after you break someone else’s heart,” he says.
I throw my pen cap at his chest, and he laughs. “I am a work in progress, sir.”
“So am I,” he says, twisting the cap between his fingers. “I learned something from our relationship that I’ve tried implementing over the years too.”
“And what’s that?”
“I could be better at it,” he says, “but communication is important to me. I think that’s why Daniela and I have a solid relationship.
Whenever something feels off, especially with the way we each parent Teddy, we talk about it.
I have an easier time processing things if I can talk them through. That goes for endings too.”
“Ouch,” I say. Putting a hand over my heart. “You’re trying to wound me today.”
“I promise I’m not,” he says. “I’m just talking to you.”
I have a momentary urge to tell him about why I left the way I did, but when I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, the way he tracks the movement makes other urges overcome that one.
I snatch the cards from him, look down, and ask, “Is there a ‘first time’ experience you’d relive the same way all over again? ”
I thought this question was innocent, picturing my first time skydiving, but I feel the heat in his stare before I even look up at him.
There’s something inviting in those dark eyes, and delusional thoughts come.
Is he thinking of our first time together?
Would he relive that moment with me now that we’re older?
The air in the room feels charged while I wait. A little dangerous. Our legs are touching underneath the table, and I don’t know when that happened, but it feels nice.
He slides his thumb along the stubble at the side of his jaw. “I’d say…”
A sudden knock against the glass door steals whatever he was going to confess from me.
While he goes to unlock the door, I take deep breaths and will my heart to stop stuttering.
Then, I stick that card into a random deck.