Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
As the driver pulls into Zach's driveway, unannounced, I notice an unfamiliar car. It takes me a few breaths to deal with the possibilities that unfamiliar car might represent. I hope life has been kind to him, and that he’s found a woman who makes him laugh. It might be the closure I need before opening the next chapter of my life.
The lights are on, and that brings a whole new rush of emotion that I thought I had under control. Taking several deep breaths, I get out of the Uber and force my heels to click their way to his front door, suitcase in tow. My shaky finger rings the doorbell. After a few seconds, an unfamiliar man answers the door.
“Hi.” He smiles. “Can I help you?”
“Is Zach home?”
His forehead narrows. “No. Sorry. He no longer lives here.”
“Oh …” I clear my throat, trying to process this information. “Do you happen to know where he lives?”
I’m an idiot. Why do I insist on these surprise visits? I have his phone number. It’s hard to explain, but I just want it to be a surprise.
“Sorry. I don’t.”
“Okay. Um … thanks.” I return a quick smile and order another ride as I make my way back down the driveway.
So much for the element of surprise. I’m the one who is surprised. Why did he sell the house? Too many memories. Another woman?
On the way to the nearest hotel, I make the call. It rings four times, and I consider hanging up instead of leaving a message, but then he answers. “Hi.”
I start to speak, but his voice still does things to me. “Hi.” My voice wobbles.
“How are you?” he asks with way more confidence than I can muster at the moment.
“I’m uh … good. Actually, I’m in Atlanta. You moved.”
“I did. What brings you to Atlanta?”
Jesus … he resurrects all the butterflies in my stomach. “Um …” I can’t believe he’s asking me this. He has to know why I’m here. “Tying up some loose ends.”
“I see. Well, I happen to be in Atlanta as well.”
“Good timing,” I say before a long pause of silence hovers between us. “I’ve loved your Instagram photos. Nila is precious. Aaron and Danni look so happy. You look happy too.”
“Ha. Yeah, so many pictures. Megan. She’s the reason for the posting. We’ve flown together quite a bit. She’s all about Instagram.”
Okay … I made the assumption I was the reason. Keeping us connected. “Flight attendant?”
“Pilot,” he says.
I have no right to be jealous. All the usual suspects line up in my mind’s reoccurring self-lecture on reasons I’m letting go of Zach. However, my mind seems to do a great job at multitasking. I can give myself the lecture and be irrationally jealous of this Megan chick taking pictures of my husband’s ass. Soon to be ex-husband.
“Is she married?”
“Single. Why?”
“No reason.”
“Oh! Megan has a cat named Professor Dumbledore. I told her about Harry Pawter. She thought that was awesome.” Is it Professor Dumbledore giving him such joy, or is it single Megan?
“You told her about my cat?”
“Of course.”
“So you told her about me?”
“I told her I have a friend with a cat named Harry Pawter.”
Jesus … what are we? Fine. I get it. He doesn’t want to tell the world he’s married, but have I not earned …
I don’t even know where that thought is going.
Girlfriend?
I’m not his girlfriend. We ended without saying the words. I can’t ask him to wait for me while I find my place in this world. And he can’t ask me to be with him as if he is that place.
He’s not … right? My place in life can’t be a person. Can it?
My entire psyche twists into a big knot. We’re over. I have the divorce papers in my carry-on to prove it.
He interrupts my thoughts. “Where are you? Have you had dinner?”
“I’m getting out of an Uber at a Marriott. I’ll probably order room service.”
“I’ll pick you up and take you to dinner. Which Marriott?”
“Um …” I smile at the Uber driver and mouth, “Thank you,” as he sets my suitcase on the curb. “No. I haven’t had dinner. Peachtree Center Ave.”
“Meet you out front in twenty?”
“Sounds um …”
Painful.
“Fine.”
After I get a room and quickly fix my hair, I head down to the lobby. As soon as I make it through the front door, I see Zach leaning against the side of his car, a huge grin on his face.
Be cool.
I can’t. There is not an ounce of coolness left inside of me as my feet race toward him, as I throw myself into his arms. How many couples end their marriage with this much enthusiasm?
“Miss me?” He chuckles.
I try so hard to keep from crying. And I succeed, but just barely. “No,” I say as he sets me back onto my feet. I quickly wipe the corners of my eyes and laugh a little. “You really looked like you needed a hug.”