Chapter Twenty-One

Reed was all I could think about. I got home in the nick of time—just before Cody arrived. Reed had dropped me off back at the school so I could get my car. I was worried I wouldn’t make it home before midnight. How would I explain my absence to my son? “Hi, honey. By the way, I was parked with your coach in one of his old make-out spots”—a tidbit I’d found out on the drive home—“and, surprise, he wants to go out on a date with me. How was your night?”

I didn’t see that conversation playing out too well. Even Reed knew it would be a complication if . . . if what? If we went out on a date? I couldn’t even say it out loud.

I threw on some yoga pants and a t-shirt before jumping into bed just as I heard Cody walk in. I picked up my tablet and pretended to read something before Cody knocked on my door.

“Mom, I’m home.”

“Come in.” I found myself sounding like a nervous teenager who was afraid her parents might find out about what she had done that night.

Cody’s eyes looked tired, and his shoulders were still slumped.

I patted a spot next to me on the bed.

He walked over and took a seat next to me even though he didn’t seem keen on it. I would at least give Cody this, he tried to always show me that he loved me.

“How was your night?”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

“Do you want to talk about your dad?”

He shook his head.

“You know it’s okay to be angry.”

“If he doesn’t care about me, I don’t care about him.”

I took his hand. “You do care. You should care. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”

“I hate him.” His hard brown eyes said he wasn’t lying.

“I know, but don’t let it tear you up inside. You can talk to me or Grandpa, James, or Peter. We’re all here for you.”

“I just want to go to bed.”

I nodded. I knew not to push it with him. “Okay. Sleep tight.”

He thundered toward my door, but he stopped before he exited and mumbled, “Love you.”

“I love you more than you know.”

I couldn’t hope to sleep now. So many emotions coursed through me. I had half a mind to call Neil right then and let him have it. What was I waiting for? He needed to hear what I had to say. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail. I had forgotten he turned his phone off at night. A voice message would do for now. My anger needed an outlet.

“You should know that your son got to play in his first varsity game tonight, and you missed it. He noticed. You’re breaking your son’s heart. The sad part is I’m not even sure you care. You divorced me, not Cody. But I guess since you’re having a new baby with your new whatever, we don’t exist for you anymore. Go ahead and write us out of your life. Maybe I’ll write someone else in. Someone that cares more about Cody than he does about himself. Someone Cody can look up to. Someone that’s not you!”

I clicked end, not sure why I said all that. I really didn’t think he cared anymore. Perhaps it bordered on childish, but you say stupid things when you’re angry. Stupid things like letting another man in our lives. Did I really want to? I thought about being in Reed’s arms. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but it was more than nice. I missed that kind of affection. I’d been missing it for a long time. Well before Neil’s affair came to light, those intimate type of touches disappeared. I was so blind. How did I not see that my marriage was in trouble?

How did I miss Reed’s advances?

I gave myself a break there. I mean, who would have guessed? Okay, so my brothers saw it. That didn’t help me feel any better, considering James was emotionally clueless at times and Peter had missed the signs for years despite being Reed’s best friend growing up. And let’s not forget I babysat him. I know Reed wished I could and would forget that.

If I could forget, how would I see him? Obviously, his attention flattered me. He was extremely good looking and, I suppose, charming in his own way. He was funny. I smiled and laughed around him more than usual. Other than that, I didn’t really know a lot about him, other than Cody adored him, and he’d been nothing but kind to me. He let me cry it out on his suit. And he didn’t try to fix anything; he just listened and held me.

I rubbed my face in my hands. Why was I even entertaining this? I couldn’t. We couldn’t. I shuddered at the thought of bringing him to my parents’ place for Sunday dinner. Granted, he was already sitting next to me, but my brothers would tease me relentlessly, and Ma would probably ask him if he had seen my NDA. Or worse, she’d ask if were sleeping together. Oh my gosh, now I was going to have those thoughts in my head.

Remembering being in Reed’s arms—or imagining more—reminded me of some of the reasons I had a mini breakdown tonight. Those women, and the way they treated me so different now. Who does she think she is? played in my head. I pulled out my laptop and logged into my blog. I was inundated with new comments about my protein ball post. Lots of people agreed with my assessment; some people wanted me to post my recipe. I obliged while Reed and that phrase played ping pong in my head.

When I was done sharing my glorified cookie recipe—and that’s exactly what I called it—I started a new post titled, “Who does she think she is? Let me tell you.”

Tonight at my son’s football game, I was hit with the cold reality of what else divorce has stolen from me. It was as if going from Mrs. to Ms. changed who I was in everyone’s eyes. I never realized what a difference that little “r” meant. Are people afraid divorce is contagious? Is that why they shy away from me? Or perhaps they wonder if it was my fault and what I did. Maybe they just don’t know what to say, so they choose to ignore me. Surely they don’t think I’m out to find the next Mr. and maybe it will be them or their spouse. Has anyone else noticed this behavior in others since their divorce? Does it get better? How do you handle it?

I wish the slights were the worst part of the evening. Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any worse, when I felt as alone as I had ever felt, two women decided to pour vinegar into that gaping wound. This blog and the attention it has garnered apparently didn’t sit well with them. I was privy to their mean-spirited conversation when one asked the other about this blog that has become one of my lifelines. The woman’s words, “Who does she think she is?” rang loud and clear into the night. I wasn’t sure if they meant for me to hear, but I did, and they know I did. For all I know, they will read this post.

So who do I think I am?

I’m the woman who would have sat alone tonight in the stands if it wasn’t for my loving family. I’m the woman who could have used a friendly hello, but received nothing but a few strained smiles and a cold shoulder or two by people I had once considered friends. People I need now more than ever. I’m the woman who ached to turn to her spouse tonight to revel in our son’s accomplishments, but knew that was forever lost to me.

I’m the woman who couldn’t stand the sight of myself in the mirror for months and did all I could to avoid it. I have hated myself more than anyone could hate me. I’m the woman who gets up every day and puts on the mask of a brave face because there is someone I love more than myself and, at the very least, my son deserves that. I’m the woman you think you know so much about because you see my mask. I’m the woman who has judged others the same way and, now more than ever, feels ashamed of my behavior. I’m imperfect and, quite honestly, a mess, but I’m muddling through trying to figure it all out. I’m the woman that will keep falling and making mistakes.

I no longer get to have the title “wife,” but I’m finding I’m more than that. I’m finding more about myself every day. Some things I like, some things need to change.

That’s who I think I am.

I read over it a dozen times. It was bold, but all true. In my middle-of-the-night exhaustion, I threw caution to the wind and published it, knowing it would now go automatically to my Facebook page and Twitter account that Delanie had set up for me.

I needed to sleep if I wanted to look decent at all for the photo shoot. Maybe I should cancel. Give up this whole Sidelined Wife business. It obviously had ramifications I hadn’t foreseen, and now I just added fuel to the fire. I should really quit doing things when I’m angry and confused.

Things to work on in the morning.

I drifted off into a restless sleep.