MAY 24TH. It’s a date I’ll remember for the rest of my days. The day I officially end my marriage.

There are no harsh words, no thrown objects, and no mess. The word ‘divorce’ is not even uttered. There are tears, though. Lots of them.

The kids are asleep, and John is reading in bed as he often does at night. It’s how he unwinds. It’s been a week or so since our argument, and that’s all forgotten now.

I’ve just had a bath, and I’m wearing a pink t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. I’m rubbing my hands with lotion. My heart is heavy, but oddly enough, I’m not nervous or scared at all.

‘We need to talk, John.”

He raises his gaze to mine with a curious expression — I normally don’t interrupt when he’s reading. He bookmarks his story and sets down his tablet on the bed. “What’s going on?” He knows something’s up. I think he’s known for a while, but just didn’t want to face it.

I inch closer to him on the bed. “Tell me about Amanda.”

His shoulders slump. “Gabbie, you know that’s not a good idea.”

“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. Besides, I already know a lot about her,” I confess. “I’ve Googled her and checked her out on Facebook. She’s very pretty.”

“Oh, Gabbie,” he says. “Don’t.”

“We’ve never talked about her because I didn’t want to,” I say. “I wanted to pretend the whole thing didn’t happen. But it did happen, didn’t it?”

He lets out a sigh. “It did.”

“How did it start?” I ask. “Please tell me. I’ve always wondered.”

His gaze darts across the room. “We met at an author signing. We already both knew about each other, but had never met.”

“Did you think she was beautiful?”

“Gabbie…”

“Answer me… did you think she was beautiful?”

His gaze pulls from mine. “Yes… I still do.”

It cuts a little, but not too much. “What was it like at first, with her?”

He smiles. “It wasn’t about sex at all at the start, Gabbie, I swear. We were just friends.”

“Well, that’s how it often starts, doesn’t it.”

“Yes…” he agrees. “ It wasn’t until months later that we… slept together for the first time. We just had so much in common, and she made me laugh. She made me feel young again. I’d forgotten how there was another side of me, someone beyond a father and a bestselling author. I looked forward to our chats… You know that show I love, Curb your Enthusiasm, the show you can’t stand?”

“Yes… what about it?”

“She loves that show. We could probably talk for hours about a single episode.”

“So obviously, she shares your snarky dry sense of humor.”

He bites his lip. “I swear, Gabbie, I’ve been good, and so has she. We haven’t communicated since I broke it off.”

“Do you miss her?”

He stares down at the bed cover and doesn’t make a peep.

“You can tell me the truth,” I say. “I miss Eli… so much.”

He turns to me, and in his eyes, there’s so much pain. “I do. I miss her.”

“Did she love you?”

He turns from me. “She did.”

I’m speechless, shaken by the conviction with which he utters those words — he’s so sure of her love for him. I honestly couldn’t be sure that Eli truly loves me like I love him. But John and Amanda have shared months; months of friendship, and months as lovers. Eli and I have shared months of friendship as well, but only a week together.

“Would she be with you if you were available? Was she serious about you?”

“Yes,” he admits. “We’d probably be together.”

I draw a breath. It hurts to hear him say he’d be with someone else if he were free, but it just proves that I’m right.

“Your story sounds very much like mine,” I say. “We’re both in love with other people.”

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t tell me that I’m wrong, that he doesn’t love her.

“The difference is… it could never work between Eli and me, but you and Amanda, you have a chance to make this work, and be happy.”

He takes my face in his hands. “I could never do that to you and the kids—”

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who’s in love with someone else,” I scoff, “and I know how you feel because I feel the same way about Eli. Do you want to spend the rest of your life with a woman who’s in love with another man?”

His eyes well up, and so do mine. We both know where this is going. “Our marriage is over, John. Why are we still pretending?”

“But it can’t be, Gabbie. All those years we’ve shared. And the kids… I love you so much.”

“You loved me… past tense, and I loved you. I’ll always love you, John. I’m just not in love with you anymore.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he says. “Always. You’re the mother of my children. I’ll always love you.”

“But you’re in love with her.”

“Yes,” he finally admits. “I’m in love with her.”

I knew it all along. I knew it because John is not a player. He doesn’t have wandering eyes, he’s not the type of man who carries on with women, who flirts at parties, who is always a little too charming. That was never John. That’s why the affair was such a shock. I never saw it coming, and when I took the time to really think about it, I knew he had to be in love. That made it hurt even more, but I could understand it because I was living it too, with Eli.

“Love is a powerful thing,” I tell him. “I don’t hate you. I never will.”

“I’ll never hate you either, Gabbie. Never.”

I realize that this conversation is off-the-charts strange, that most couples don’t come to the decision of getting a divorce so easily, so amicably. I know for a fact that Corrie’s separation was horrible. They’re still bickering to this day, yet they keep going back to each other. And I think that’s the case with many couples. John and I are the exception. We’re very lucky.

“The kids will be okay,” I tell him. “If we can do this amicably.”

“We can,” he says. “And I’ll take care of you and the kids. You’ll never want for anything, I swear. I’m not going to be an asshole. You deserve so much. I know you left your job for the kids, and you’ve been an amazing mom.”

“What do you think of shared custody?” I ask. “One week on, one week off? I could also take them when you go for signings and events.”

He’s crying now, so full of emotion — I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so emotional. “I promise I won’t be a jerk. I’ll let you have them when you want them, for special occasions and… God, Gabbie, are we doing the right thing?”

I’m crying too now — we’re both sobbing. “We are.”

The next day, John and I discuss the logistics of this separation over coffee and scones. We both agree that taking things slowly is the best way to approach this. We’re not telling the kids quite yet, or anyone else, with the exception of Kayla, Maeve and Corrie, of course.

“You think you and Amanda…” I don’t quite know how to ask the question. I want to know if he’s planning to run straight to Amanda and get married. That could make things a little complicated. “Are you… going to move in together?”

“We’ll see,” he says. “One day at a time. I’m not going to move in with her anytime soon,” he reassures me. “I’ll look into apartments. I plan to take things very slowly… one thing at a time… for the kids. I don’t want to confuse them any more than they’ll already be.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I’m so glad we’re on the same page.

We go over our plan of action. He’ll move out slowly, get settled in, and gradually spend less time at home. He’s been away so much for conferences and signings, the kids probably won’t even notice. He’ll have them over to his ‘new office’ and let them get used to the place. They’ll slowly spend more time there, and eventually we’ll officially separate, and tell them about the divorce. We’ll then contact the school and our family and friends, and make the official announcement.

The kids will alternate between us. One week with him, and one with me. And they’ll be with me when he’s away on business. All in all, I’ll still have them often, but I know those times without them will be hard… heartbreaking.

It sounds so easy, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be that simple.