"My name is Rose. My husband and I were married for seven years. We have two beautiful children – twins. One boy and one girl. They both look like their father."
She has a sadness in her voice that I can relate to. And her eyes look empty…vacant. I wonder if that's what people see when they look at me. I immediately look down.
"I thought we were really happy. I thought…I thought we had everything we wanted. But I was wrong. I was completely wrong."
She pauses and the whole room is silent. The whole room is listening to her, and I think about how hard this is. How hard it must be for her. How hard it was for me. How hard is still is for me. And I'm not even the one talking.
"Last summer we decided to put a pool in the back yard. It was more my idea than his. And I was so excited. The kids were so excited. And I thought that he was excited, too. I mean, at first I had to convince him. He was kind of worried about the finances. But he eventually…eventually he was really excited…happy. Only it wasn't about the pool.
"There was a man….you know, overseeing the installation. I don't…" she pauses to take a deep breath, and I find that I need to take a breath, too. "I don't think I can explain what it's like to come home and find your husband fucking the pool boy. Or rather…being fucked by the pool boy. I guess he wasn't a boy at all. He was a man. I mean…well, there are some things you just can't unsee. You husband being fucked in the ass by a man with a penis that's bigger than his…there's nothing to get that out of your mind."
And suddenly, it's a year ago. Suddenly, I'm not here in this room. I'm back to where I was when I found out. And I look at this woman…at Rose. And I feel her pain. I have felt her pain. Fuck, I'm still feeling her pain.
There are tears in her eyes. There are tears in mine. And she looks at me and smiles sadly. I feel like I want to give her a hug, but then I remember that I don't even like hugs. Well, I used to…but not anymore.
"So, now it's just me and my kids. Living in the house that I built with my husband. My ex-husband. It's still strange to say that. Ex-husband. It still hurts. Every single day. I'm in the big house, and he's…well, he has an apartment in the city where he's living with that man. And people are all really happy for him. It's fucked up, you know? People are happy for him that he had the courage to actually come out and live his life on his terms. Like he should be wearing a rainbow polo and in a commercial for Pride Fest in Key West. And I am left with pity and sadness. And whispering gossips in the suburbs."
Yeah…I totally want to give her a hug.
And maybe a friendship bracelet.
"But I'm still standing. I'm still here…trying to pick up the pieces. Trying to be a good mom – a strong mom – for my kids."
She takes her seat and I want to clap. Like an idiot. I want to clap for her bravery and for her ability to just be here. And for a single moment, just a flash…I'm proud of myself for doing the same thing.
.
.
.
"How are you?"
His back is to me and he's pouring coffee into a white styrofoam cup. People are still milling about the room, but I saw him. The truth is, I saw him the moment I came in. Was aware of his presence right away. It scared me. So I sat on the opposite side of the room.
But Rose…well, she inspired me. You know…to be strong or whatever. I told her that after the meeting. And then – to the surprise and mortification of both of us – I hugged her. It was awkward and tight…and we both laughed. But yeah…she hugged me back.
But Edward made an effort with me, and even though I probably scared him off forever, I'm going to try to make an effort with him, too. I hope he meant what he said about being a good friend.
"Bella," he says my name, turning around. He's smiling. It's perfect. I ignore the flutter in my stomach. It doesn't mean anything. I can't mean anything. "I'm so glad you're here."
"You are?"
He looks at me – my eyes, my face. I feel like he pauses on my lips, but I'm probably mistaken. And then he smiles again. It's wider. It's…well, it's really wonderful.
"I am."
He offers me a cup of coffee and before I allow myself to refuse, we're sitting on two chairs sipping the hot liquid.
It's good.
I feel good.
"Did you mean what you said?" I ask. "Because I meant what I said."
He looks confused, and I realize that I'm making no sense.
"About what?"
"About you being my…a good friend?"
"Yeah, I did," he says. "I meant it."
"Okay."
"What about you?" he asks.
"What?"
"You told me you meant what you said, too," he says, before taking a drink of his coffee. His lips look soft, and I tell myself to stop looking at his lips. "What were you talking about?"
And I know what I want to do. I want to do it, but I'm terrified. I'm terrified that it's all too much. But everything feels like it's going to always be too much. And I can continue living in fear – withdrawn and alone – or I can take a chance.
"I…I…I was telling the truth about cooking," I tell him, not meeting his eyes. "I don't know if…well, I was just wondering…it's normal for a friend to make another friend dinner, right?"
Oh, god.
I think I'm going to vomit in this coffee cup.
"Are you asking if you can make me dinner?" he asks, and I have to look at him.
When I do, he's smiling. It's big and soft, and he looks…he looks happy.
"Yeah," I tell him. "I guess I am."
.
.
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A/N
Reviews are love.
Please leave me some.
Thank you so much for reading. I'm so happy people are enjoying or relating to this story. Every single one of you blow me away.
Marvar, I love you. That's all. Thank you being my beta, and for being my friend. And thank you for not flouncing me when I decided to write a story that would post every single day.
#TeamAmazeballs Your encouragement and support have been wonderful. All of you are so fucking special. Raina, Jaime, Kourt and Laura…yeah, ILY.
See you in the morning!
