Chapter 20
“No,” I said.
Michael looked surprised.
“I wish it had ended differently. I wish he'd been honest. I wish I'd paid more attention to my own unhappiness. But I don't regret my children, and I don't regret every year of my marriage.”
He nodded.
“That's a healthy way to look at it.”
I smiled.
“Don't sound so surprised.”
He laughed.
Then he asked, “And what do you want now?”
I considered giving him a practical answer.
Finish the divorce.
Sort out the house.
Make sure the children were okay.
But those were responsibilities.
Not dreams.
“I want to feel like my life belongs to me,” I said.
Michael smiled.
“Then that's where you start.”
The divorce took several months.
There were disagreements over the house and the timing of dividing certain investments.
Daniel sometimes became defensive.
I sometimes became emotional.
We were not magically transformed into mature, perfectly reasonable people simply because I had made a clear decision.
But we had attorneys who kept the process moving, and eventually we reached an agreement both of us could accept.
I kept the house and refinanced it as part of the settlement.
Daniel moved into an apartment across town.
We divided our accounts according to the agreement.
And when the final documents arrived, I sat at my kitchen table staring at the signature lines.
Twenty-seven years.
Reduced to paperwork.
I picked up the pen.
Then I put it down.
Not because I was reconsidering.
Because I wanted to give that moment the respect it deserved.
For a long time, I had loved Daniel.
I had built a family with him.
I had believed we would grow old together.
It was all real.
And it was over.
I signed.
Then I made myself a cup of peppermint tea.
Three weeks after the divorce became final, Daniel asked to meet me at a small coffee shop near the courthouse.
I almost declined.
But he said there was something he wanted to tell me in person, and I agreed.
He looked older when he walked in.
Not dramatically different.
Just tired around the eyes.
He ordered coffee and sat across from me.
For a few minutes, we talked about Sophie and Adam.
Then Daniel folded his hands.
“I've been seeing a therapist.”
I nodded.
“That's good.”
He looked down.
“I've realized something about myself.”
I waited.
“I spent most of our marriage thinking that because I worked hard and provided for the family, I was doing everything I needed to do.”