BE STRONG. YOU can do this. Do you want us to come?
While I would’ve loved a hand to hold, I had to face this alone.
After hanging up with Hunter, Allie scooted into the booth beside me, sandwiching me between her and Emilia to console me while I cried. I wanted to pretend that phone call never happened. I’d been doing so much better, and now this.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t ignore him. I should have known this was coming sooner or later. I guess I was content in my naivety. I blamed my mother and that optimism of hers. False hope is the devil.
With the night still young, I jotted down Hunter’s new address—even that tore at my gut. He had a new place. A place without me. I plugged it into the navigation app on my phone and drove there in quiet contemplation.
Fragile.
Everyone saw me that way right now, but there was no chance in hell I could allow Hunter to think that of me. What good would it do? It wasn’t attractive. So I talked myself into being strong, even though I felt anything but.
Park the car. Turn off the engine. Apply the lipstick. Walk up to the door.
I did each of those things as if watching my motions play out through some warped out-of-body experience.
Lifting a trembling hand to the door, I balled it tight and knocked. Childhood memories of ring and run fed my urge to hit the pavement and fuck this whole thing. Let him mail the papers to me. Serve me! Work for it, you bastard. But after about thirty of the longest seconds ever, the door swung open and there he was.
Tall, virile, commanding. His skin was golden from what I imagined were hours working outdoors. His hair had grown out a bit, enticing my fingers to reach out and ruffle the unruly waves. Whenever he was due for a haircut, I made sure to remind him. The fact it was longer made me wonder if there were other things he’d failed to keep up with in my absence. He’d never done a single load of laundry while we were married. He didn’t have to. I did that for him and I loved every second of it because I loved him.
“Hi,” he said, his lilt a mere whisper. A whisper that once tickled my ear with its soft, breathy delivery.
“Hello, Hunter.” I gulped my emotions down and willed my tears not to betray me.
“Thanks for . . . Please come in.” He opened the door wider and motioned for me to walk inside.
I did and I immediately wanted to crumble.
It was a small studio apartment with a few windows and very little furniture. Everything was neat, clean, and crisp. Had I walked into a disaster, I would have felt better. But this—this state of normalcy, of new beginnings, of surviving so effortlessly—meant he was doing fine on his own. He no longer needed me. What a slap in the face.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, most likely sensing the devastation that coursed through me at tidal wave force.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Absolutely nothing and . . . fucking everything.”
He narrowed his eyes, that crease of worry I knew so well forming above the bridge of his handsome nose.
I knew every line of his face, every contour of his body, each and every reaction he was going to make before he actually did. I hated that he wanted to take that away from me. There was an innate familiarity that came with being with someone for so long. And by remaining silent, he was acting as if I was a stranger to him, discounting my obvious pain. I wanted to be strong, but I couldn’t let him get away with it.
“What, Hunter? You think this is easy for me? This has been a nightmare! And now I’m here to sign divorce papers, to make it all final.” I was still so angry, but God help me, looking at him, being in the same room as him again, made me miss him. “I had no fucking idea seeing you after all this time would hurt so much.” So much for getting through the first five minutes without a meltdown.
“It hurts me, too, Lon.” The tone in which he made his quiet confession resuscitated my dying heart. For a quick moment, I second-guessed everything. Maybe we could make it work. Maybe give it one more try? We could rebuild trust, get him help, go back to how things were in the beginning. If I dug deep, I could find it in my heart to forgive him, couldn’t I?
I held on tight to those thoughts, wishing we could erase the mistakes of our past and start over, but when Hunter lifted his face to bring his eyes to mine again, it was evident he’d reached the end of his rope, too. “This is the best thing for us. Well, for you. I’ve hurt you enough. I can hardly live with myself for everything I put you through. I have nothing left to offer you and I don’t want to drag you down anymore. You deserve so much more than I can give.”
I appreciated his remorse, but it was his fault we were in this predicament. If he hadn’t done what he did, maybe we could have salvaged what was left of that powerful love that once saw us through everything. We both had flaws—neither of us were perfect—but there was a time when our life together was perfect. I missed those days so terribly it was impossible to imagine that there would come a time when anything, or anyone, would make me happy again.
Something came over me then. Devastation morphed to rage. I marched over to the television console and grabbed the remote that belonged to what looked like a brand new fifty-inch flat screen. “How the hell can you afford all this, huh? Where’d you get the money to rent this place? I’m shacking up with my mother and working like a dog to get by, but you’ve got a shiny new place to call your own. Explain that, Hunter. Explain how the hell you’ve managed to move on when I’m stuck in fucking limbo.”
“It’s not my place,” he mumbled, unable to make eye contact.
“What do you mean it’s not—? Oh my God.” I looked around at the décor. Not Hunter’s taste. I wasn’t sure how I’d missed them when I walked in, but a pair of women’s slippers sat beside the front door. Realization sucker punched me. He had to be kidding me. I was struggling to survive and he was . . .”Tell me you’re not living with someone . . . with another woman!” I pulled at my hair, big angry fistfuls that burned my scalp.
“Calm down! Stop!” Hunter was in front of me in an instant, his hands over mine, coercing me to release my grip.
I relented, weak beneath his touch and the weight of everything unfolding around us. Disintegrating into a mass of wilted limbs and a river of tears—the picture of fragility at its finest—he pulled me against his chest and patted my back. “There is no one else. I promise. Please relax, London.”
“Then who?” I sobbed.
“Shh,” he lulled me. “It’s not important or relevant. Just calm down. I hate seeing you like this.”
“I don’t believe you!” I cried. “The lies, the secrets, I can’t take anymore, Hunter. Tell me the truth.”
Pulling back, I noticed he too had tears in his eyes. He held me at arm’s distance and wiped away a strand of hair matted to my face. This tender Hunter was the Hunter I missed most. It had been a long time since I’d been in the arms of this man, but these feelings hadn’t vanished completely. I wasn’t sure they ever would.
“Who is she?” I pleaded once more.
He let go of my arms and sighed. “She’s a friend of my parents; it’s only temporary. I’m just staying here until . . .” His words died from the anguish crushing his voice.
“Until what?”
He blinked, a single tear leaking from the corner of his eye before he swiped at it and looked away. “Until I have to go. I’m leaving, London. I’m going to Arizona to be with my mom and dad.”
What he said hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. “You’re l-leaving?” I struggled with the word. It was so final. Like divorce. Everything was changing. Too much, too fast. I knew it was over two months ago, but there was always that glimmer of hope that better versions of ourselves would one day find a way back to each other, pick up where we left off, and live happily ever after. But now—the odds were stacked against us in so many ways.
Unable to contain my emotions, my head fell into my hands with the onslaught of tears.
Hunter pulled my wrists to uncover my eyes. “Lon, please don’t cry. Don’t make this harder. This is the only way. I need a fresh start. We both do.”
I knew he was right; it would be better this way. But years of precious memories bombarded me, pummeling my heart and drowning my brain. And then a heavy bolt of realization struck, causing them to ripple away as if they never existed. It’s really fucking over.
Without thinking, I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around him. I wanted to hate him. That would be easier. But I couldn’t. We’d given each other so much of ourselves. He would always be a part of me, regardless of distance or our marital status.
I didn’t want to let go. In this moment, there was no pain, no arguing, no gambling or lying. In this embrace we were just Hunter and London, two tethered souls that needed to be set free.
For a few minutes, we remained tangled together for the last time. I was so tired from my outburst and all the crying that I almost fell asleep standing up. I would have given anything for that because when I slept I was at peace; my dreams of Hunter were happy.
But it wasn’t long before he released me from his arms. He took a small step backward and looked deeply into my weary eyes. “We have to say good-bye. We can’t put it off any longer. It’s time.”
I swallowed whatever remained pent up inside my throat and blinked my lids slowly. This was really happening. I had to let him go.
“Give them to me,” I whispered. I had no idea where the courage to speak those words came from, but I was thankful it did. Putting this off even one more second only made it harder.
Hunter walked over to a table in the eat-in-kitchen and brought over a stack of legal-sized papers. Without looking at them or reading any of the fine print, I opened my palm and he handed me a pen.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” I signed my name on the bold black line.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he replied but did not make any further eye contact.
I drove back to my mother’s on autopilot. I couldn’t hear myself think over the radio, which was definitely a good thing. I cried through every song and drove as cautiously as I could with my vision blurred by a veil of merciless tears. Everything that had scarred over since the night he left was raw and bleeding all over again.
I’d probably never see him again. He’d be out of my life for good. The love of my life. My high school sweetheart. The man meant to occupy my past, present, and future.
Devastation struck with a resilience that was impossible to ignore, but underneath the pain, amidst the pieces of my heart that were broken and shattered ten times over, something told me it was time. Time to take the next step in the grieving process. Time to put it all behind me and get on with living my new life, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do.