Chapter 13 (5/14/16)

I have the best news, friends!  99.8% of my work for school is done, and I graduate in one week!  Guess what that means?  That means I'm going to try to get you guys more than one post every other week.  In fact, I'd like to get you all posts more than once a week!  I'm not going to set a schedule because I need to get back into the swing of things.  I will consider setting a schedule in the future, but for now I'm going to post when I can.  I know that's a pain for you all, but you can follow me on Bloglovin', by email, or via Blogger to make it easier to keep track of my likely erratic posting.  Thank you for your patience while I wrap up this crazy time of my life!

_________________________________

The rest of my time at my parents’ house was uneventful.  My parents stopped acting as if I was either going to break or flip out at any point, and I was able to relax a little.  But eventually, of course, I had to head home.  Or to Kevin’s home, rather. 

Spending some time away was just another thing that made me realize how much I needed to move out.  I spent a lot of time looking at houses, but as December gave way to January, I knew I needed to start looking at rentals.  Between looking at houses I did not want to buy, I began looking at apartments and townhomes. 

Two weeks into January, I found a small townhome for rent that I really liked.  Fighting down my disappointment and bitterness, I paid the application fee and filled out the paperwork.  When I heard back that my application had been approved, I signed a lease and paid the deposit.  My lease would start on February 1^st, but I would be able to pay a partial month and move in as soon as the 20^th of January. 

I began packing with renewed vigor.  Sure, I wasn’t moving into my own house that I owned (or would own in 30 years when I finished paying the bank), but I was getting out of this terrible living situation.  I wouldn’t have to see Kevin’s face any more.  I wouldn’t have to hear him, or talk to him, or worry about walking in on him with his whores. 

I also started actually paying attention to the dating site that Chelsea had created my profile on.  Seeing Jamie had reminded me that dating and having sex was fun, and I was maybe ready to do a little more of it.  I had yet to respond to any messages, because most of them were short and stupid or blatantly creepy.  I also had yet to send a message, because I wasn’t that invested in dating.  But as I was scrolling through the messages I’d accumulated over the weeks, one of them caught my eye.  The message was funny, the guy was cute, and his profile was actually interesting.  I took far too long to craft a perfect message back to him, read it over three times, and hit send.  I immediately rolled my eyes at myself for caring so much about sending the “perfect” message to some strange guy on the internet, but I was new at this. 

I spent the rest of my evening messaging back and forth with him.  So far it seemed like he had a good sense of humor (and actually got my dry, sarcastic wit), plus he had a job and owned a house, which is always promising. 

When I woke up in the morning, I had another message waiting for me.  “Really enjoyed our chat last night.  I’d love to meet you.  I hope this isn’t too forward, but call or text me if you’d like to.”  He’d finished it up with his number and his first name, which was Dan.  I couldn’t help but be a little giddy.  I programmed his number into my phone, but decided to wait to text him. 

I made it all the way to lunch before I decided I had waited enough.  I sent a text telling him who I was and that I’d definitely like to meet him, but I’d like to talk a little more first.  I was nervous as I hit send, but it was a good kind of nervous.  He responded 10 minutes later, and we texted on and off all day.  And all week.  By the end of the week, I was comfortable enough to set up a casual coffee “date” with him for Saturday evening. 

“Are you Jenna?” The question came from a tall, lean man, walking towards me from the other end of the parking lot.

“Maybe,” I replied with a smirk.  “Are you Dan?”

He chuckled.  “I am.”  He stuck his hand out and I took it, shaking it firmly.  “Shall we?” he motioned towards the door and I nodded and walked inside. 

Once inside, we got in line to order our beverages.  I ordered a medium chai latte with coconut flavoring and paid for it, and he ordered a mug of green tea.  We took our beverages over to a small table near the fireplace and sat. 

We engaged in standard “getting to know you” conversation.  He had two sisters and a brother, all older.  He had a dog and some fish.  He lived near the hospital.  He worked for an insurance company and preferred the indoors to the outdoors.  We talked for four hours, until the coffee shop employees began wiping off tables and sweeping the floor.  When we left, we made plans to get together again.  I wondered for a second if he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. 

Kevin came home one day while I was packing up my DVDs, carefully pulling them from the shelf where they mixed amongst his.  “I’m having movers come on the 30th,” I told him without looking up.  “I’ll have all my stuff out of here by the 31^st.”

“Okay,” he responded.  “Can I ask you a question?”

“If you have to,” I replied, still not looking at him.

“Do you ever regret our divorce?”

I froze for a second, then put the DVD in my hand into the box and turned and looked at him.  “No,” I said bluntly. “I don’t.”

He nodded and considered this.  “It just happened so fast,” he said calmly.

I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes slightly.  I took a deep breath to compose myself, then said, “I can understand how it seemed fast for you, but for me it was two years in the making.  More, if we’re both being honest.”

He shrugged, then stood.  “I did love you, you know,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied. 

            He stood for several more seconds, waiting.  I didn’t say anything.  He walked towards the doorway.  When he reached it, he paused.  Without turning around, he said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m much happier now than I ever was when we were married.  But I did love you.”

          “Fuck you,” I muttered.  But he didn’t hear me, because he was already gone.

Continue reading →

Chapter 12 (5/7/16)

My dad handed me a glass of wine as I stormed in.  “She didn’t tell them,” I growled.  “You didn’t either!”

“I thought she did,” my dad said contritely.  “She said she was going to.”  I rubbed my forehead and sighed, feeling bad about my mini tantrum.  “I’m sorry, Jenna.”

“I am too,” I replied weakly.  “I’m not trying to be a brat, but this is so hard already.  And then to be blindsided like that…It just sucks.”

“I know,” he assured me.  “Here, stir this.”  He handed me a spoon and wandered out of the kitchen, leaving me to mindlessly stir and calm down. 

He returned in a couple minutes, relieving me of stirring duty.  I wandered into the living room, where everyone was watching A Christmas Story.  I sighed in relief and sat down.  I could use a mindlessly funny distraction.  No one said anything to me, and they were all very careful to keep their faces turned towards the TV.  Fine with me. 

Everyone tiptoed around me for about an hour, but finally loosened up at dinner when I cracked a joke.  No one mentioned Kevin or my divorce again.  Once everyone left, my mom looked at me.  “Jenna, I’m sorry,” she said.

“I know,” I said.  “I’m sorry too.  For being a bitch about it.”

She looked as though she was going to say something about my language, then thought better of it.  “Are you angry at me?” she asked instead.

“No, I’m just…tired of feeling shitty,” I admitted.  This was maybe the most honest thing I’d said to anyone since the divorce was finalized.  I quickly realized my mistake when my mom frowned sympathetically.  I’m so uncomfortable with people feeling sorry for me.  “I’m okay, mom,” I said quickly.  She hugged me anyway, and I hugged her back.  “I think I’m going to head to bed,” I told her after we separated.

I had a hard time falling asleep that night, and when I finally did, I was plagued by nightmares.  The worst was the one about the very first day I found out that Kevin cheated on me, long before we ever even thought about getting married.

He was three quarters of the way through his first year in med school.  It was hard—much harder than I’d anticipated.  I was a junior, on my 2nd major: communications.  I couldn’t seem to figure out what I wanted to do with my life so I figured I could get a fairly generic degree and figure it out later.  That’s what grad school is for, right?  Anyway, Kevin was at the U of M, 2 and a half long hours away.  And he was so busy that even though we were 7 weeks into the semester, I’d only seen him once since winter break. Luckily, we both had spring break the next week, and I was going down to stay with him for the week. I missed him.

It was pretty late on a Wednesday night.  I remember it was Wednesday.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.  I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang.  Whoever went to bed first called to say goodnight, so I wasn’t surprised to see it was Kevin.  I quickly finished brushing my teeth and answered as I walked out of the bathroom and back to my room.  “Hey, honey,” I said cheerfully.  “How was your day?”

“It wasn’t good,” he answered, and he sounded weird.

“What do you mean?” I demanded.  “What’s wrong?”

“Jenna, I have to tell you something.  But first I want to say that I’m really, really sorry, and I love you.  I really love you.  A lot.”

“What did you do?” I asked frantically.  My heart was pounding and I felt sick to my stomach.  This was not what I was expecting, and I knew it wasn’t good.  I knew.

“Jenna, baby, I love you.”

“You said that already,” I growled back.  “Tell me what you did.”

He didn’t say anything for several seconds.  And then…did he sniffle?  I couldn’t tell.  Finally, he said, “Jenna, I’ve made some mistakes lately.  Some really bad mistakes.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I miss you, and it’s hard not to see you, and school is really stressful.”  He stopped and I was so frustrated I almost hung up on him.  Luckily, he continued after a brief pause.  “Baby, I’ve been cheating on you.”

“What?” I asked, confused.  “No.  No, you haven’t.  You wouldn’t.”  I didn’t want to believe him.

“Jenna,” he said softly.  “I’m sorry.”  And then he definitely sniffled.  And then he sniffled again. 

The full weight of what was happening hit me then.  “Fuck you,” I said.  “Oh, fuck you.  You asshole!  You piece of shit!  Is that why you haven’t let me come see you?  Because you’re too busy fucking your sidepiece?  Is she prettier than me?  Is she going to be a doctor too? I hope it was worth it.  I hope she’s a real good fuck, because if you cheated on me for mediocre piece of ass, I swear I will—“

“Jenna,” he cut me off.  “Calm down.”

“Oh no,” I raged.  “You don’t get to tell me to calm down!  You want me calm?  You should have thought about that before you went and stuck your dick in some whore who—“

“Jenna!” he said, louder.  “Seriously, can you even blame me?  Look at the way you’re acting.”

That shut me up really fast.   I collected my thoughts, and then calmly said, “I don’t have anything else to say to you.  Don’t call me back.” Then I hung up.

Of course, he didn’t follow directions.  Within 5 minutes, he’d called me 4 times, texted 12, and left 3 voicemails.  I didn’t read the messages.  I didn’t listen to the voicemails.  Eventually, I turned my phone off. 

In the morning, I read the texts.  I listened to the voicemails.  I’d accrued 28 more texts and 4 more voicemails overnight.  They started out pleading.  Then they moved to angry.  They ended with him crying.  That’s right.  I had an entire 47 second voicemail that consisted only of him crying and begging me to call him back. 

He called me periodically throughout the day.  I ignored each one, sending him to voicemail.  He didn’t leave any more voicemails.  He didn’t send any more texts. 

My roommate left Friday morning for spring break and I used my solitude to wallow and mourn the loss of my boyfriend.  Except then he showed up at my apartment.  I don’t know who I was expecting when I heard the knock at the door, but it wasn’t him. 

He looked awful.  Terrible.  His eyes were bloodshot.  He looked exhausted.  He was pale.  He probably looked worse than me.  “Why are you here?” I asked him, fighting to keep my strong, uncaring façade.  But the truth was that looking at him and seeing his anguish, my resolve to end it all and move on was fading fast.

“Please let me in, Jenna,” he said softly, hanging his head.  “Please.  Just let me talk to you.”

I stared at him for long enough to make him shift his weight uncomfortably and glance awkwardly over my shoulder.  Then I silently stepped aside and let him in.  “How’d you even get in the building?” I asked.

“I saw Amanda coming out, and she let me in,” he said.  Amanda was the girl that lived across the hall.  We hung out occasionally, so she knew Kevin. 

“Oh,” I said.  We went to the couch and I motioned for him to sit.  Then I sat on the opposite end, as far as away from him as I could get.  “Um, do you want some water or something?” I asked.

“No,” he replied.  “I just want to apologize.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I was an idiot.  I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.  I’ll do whatever you want me to do.  Jenna, I miss you, and I love you, and I fucked up.  I’m sorry I fucked up.”

I bit my lip, because I missed him and loved him too.  And he looked so distressed and upset and sorry and pathetic.  And then my chin quivered and I tried to swallow, but it was hard.  “Damn it, Kevin,” I managed, before I burst into tears.

It was the first time I’d cried since he confessed, believe it or not, and the floodgates were open.  Once I’d started, I couldn’t stop.  I sobbed, and when he moved to my end of the couch and wrapped his arms around me, I curled into him and buried my face in his chest.  He stroked my hair and my back and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jenna.  I’m so sorry,” over and over.  And then he cried too.

When I finally stopped crying, I tilted my head up to kiss him, desperate to feel something else.  One thing led to another, and we ended up in my bed.  When we were done, I said, “I don’t know how I’m going to trust you.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” he assured me.  “I’ll earn your trust back.  You can look through my phone.  I’ll tell you every detail of my day.  I’ll do whatever you want.”

I sucked in a shaky breath and said, “We’ll figure it out.”

Continue reading →

No post for this week.

Hi guys!  I'm sorry to say there won't be a post for this week.  I'm down to the wire with some things for school and feeling hopelessly overwhelmed.  My goal is to get a post or two up next week, but I will keep you posted (no pun intended).  I do so appreciate your patience and understanding as I wrap up my school career here!

Continue reading →

Chapter 11 (4/23/16)

Short post #2 for the week!  Enjoy :)

_____________________________

I was out of the house by 10 the next morning, ready for the 3 and a half hour drive down to my parents’ house.  I was ready for the drive, and to be out of Kevin’s house, but I was not ready to see my family.  Needless to say, I didn’t speed on my way.  Sorry to the people behind me!

My mom didn’t waste any time.  I made it about 2 steps inside when she said, “Well, you look exhausted.”

I bit my tongue to keep from saying, “That’s because I was getting off repeatedly until the wee hours of the morning,” and instead just said, “It was a long drive, Mom.”

She gave me a look that clearly meant she didn’t believe me.  I sighed and dragged my stuff to my old room.  When I opened the door, I saw that it had been repainted, had new furniture, and had all new linens.  “Mom!” I called down the hall.  “What happened to my room?”

I heard her footsteps, then she appeared in the doorway.  “Well it’s not really your room anymore, is it?” she asked.  Then she looked slightly horrified.  “Jenna, you’re not going to end up moving back in here, are you?”

“No, Mom!” I exclaimed, exasperated.  “Why the hell would I do that?  Especially now, after you said it like that?”

“Well, I don’t know,” she said.  “I moved back in with my parents after my first divorce.”

I stared at her blankly, making the good choice to not say any of the things that popped into my head after that.  Instead I just said, “Well, you could have warned me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time!” she replied cheerfully, turning and heading back down the hallway.  I rolled my eyes at her back and got settled.  I took longer than I needed to, just because I wasn’t ready to face my mom again yet. 

Once I emerged, though, she was fine.  She was her normal self, asking about work and my friends and not bringing up my divorce.  When my dad got home from work, he hugged me and didn’t say a word about my divorce.  I liked it better that way. 

The next day, we completed our usual Christmas Eve traditions: Christmas Eve lasagna, a movie, and driving around looking at Christmas lights.  I was disappointed with the lights this year.  It seemed like every year the displays were getting less and less exciting.  After we made our way home, we played several games of Yahtzee and drank wine until bedtime.  Not a super exciting Christmas Eve, but it’s what we do every year, and it was nice to have something be normal.

In the morning, my dad and I made breakfast together.  While we were cooking, he said, “You know, Jenna, if you need anything…”

“I know, Dad,” I assured him.  “I don’t need anything right now.  I just need to find a new place to live.”

“Do you need money?  Do you need help with a down payment?”  I bit my lip and shook my head.  Help with a down payment could get me into a nicer house faster, but I really, really wanted to do this on my own.  I felt like I had something to prove.

“No, but thank you,” I said firmly. 

My dad regarded me carefully, taking his eyes off the omelet he’d just flipped.  “Okay, well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

“Yeah,” I said, cracking a smile.  “I know where you live!”  My dad laughed too, and we went back to focusing on breakfast. 

After breakfast, we opened gifts.  My parents were more generous than usual, probably out of pity or something.  I made out pretty well, and I wasn’t mad about it.  Then my mom told me my choices were clean or get out of her way.  As tempted as I was to just get out of her way, I helped her clean while my dad got the turkey in the oven for dinner.

“Who’s coming?” I asked, as I ran a dust rag over the windowsill. 

“Just your grandparents and Uncle Jim,” my mom said.  “Your cousin is staying in North Carolina for Christmas this year.”  My cousin Allie moved to North Carolina 4 years ago and seemed to come back for Christmas about every other year.  Then she frowned at me.  “Don’t forget the baseboards, Jenna Marie,” she scolded. 

“I won’t forget the baseboards, Mother,” I replied, rolling my eyes when my back was turned.  Did she think I made it through 18 years of living with her only to forget how she liked the house cleaned? 

“I know you’re rolling your eyes,” she commented blithely. 

I laughed.  “Me?  I’d never.” 

Now it was my mom’s turn to laugh. “Shut up and dust the damn baseboards, Jenna,” she responded, still laughing.  Just to be a pain, I finished the rest of the dusting first while my mom rolled her eyes. 

By the time it was time for me to shower and get ready, I was anxious.  I was not looking forward to seeing my extended family and fielding questions about my divorce.  They were nosy, so I was sure it would be the main attraction of Christmas dinner conversation.  In my head, I rehearsed answers that were vague, brief, and at least somewhat polite. 

I felt fairly relaxed and prepared by dinnertime.  But I was not prepared for the first question my grandmother asked.  “Where’s Kevin?”  Of all the questions I’d imagined, this was not one of them.

“Um, what do you mean?” I asked. 

“Your husband, sweetheart.  Is he here?” she repeated, looking at me like I was crazy. 

It took me several seconds to process this, but then I looked at my mom, whose face was red.  “You didn’t tell them?” I hissed. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back, looking pained.  I glared at her in disbelief.  “I didn’t know what to say to them and then I honestly just forgot.”

“You didn’t know what to say?” I parroted.  I was pissed.   But, the logical part of my brain woke up and alerted me to the fact that 3 of my extended family members were standing in front of us, looking very confused, so I reeled in my anger.  I looked back at my grandma and said, “He’s not here.  We’re divorced.  I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.  I don’t want to talk about it.”  Then I turned on my heel and hightailed it into the kitchen.

Continue reading →

Chapter 10 (4/19/16)

A short post for today.  I hope to put up another short post later this week.  Enjoy!

____________________________

Kevin’s overnight shifts were usually from 7pm to 7am, and he was usually gone by 6:30, so I made dinner plans with Jamie for 7:30 on Tuesday.  When I didn’t hear Kevin moving around by 6, though, I got a little nervous.  I heard his alarm go off at 6:30 and realized I had assumed incorrectly and he was working 8pm to 8am tonight.  I hoped briefly that Jamie would be late, but then realized that I shouldn't care if they ran into each other.

And run into each other they did.  Jamie, damn him, was 10 minutes early, pulling up in front of the house at the exact moment Kevin was walking down the stairs.  “Who’s that?” he questioned me, peering out the front window while I wrestled my feet into the boots I wanted to wear. 

“Jamie,” I muttered, grabbing for my coat and trying to slip out the door before the doorbell rang.  But Murphy’s Law intervened and my coat got stuck on the hanger.  I yanked and the hanger flipped up and off the bar with enough velocity to send it ricocheting into a framed print hanging on the hallway wall.  The print wobbled but didn’t fall as the hanger bounced off and smacked me right in the face. 

Kevin tried to bite back his smirk as he said, “I’ll get the door for you.”  I started to protest but he’d already pulled it open.  Jamie blinked in surprise but quickly pasted a smile on his face.

“Hi, Kevin,” he said neutrally. 

“Hi,” Kevin replied, staring him down.  Meanwhile I was trying to collect myself, smoothing my hair and yanking my coat on. 

“Sorry, I’m ready,” I said quickly, shoving past Kevin and ushering Jamie out the door—not that he’d even had a chance to come in it. 

Jamie peered at my cheek in light from the streetlamp and said, “Jenna, what happened to your face?”

“Never mind, I’m fine,” I replied sharply. 

Jamie didn’t say anything.  He pulled the passenger side door of his car open for me and I muttered a brief “thanks” as I got in.  He shut the door carefully after me and got in.  He didn’t say a word as we drove somewhere.  I didn’t even know where we were going, but I grinned when we pulled up to my favorite pizza place.  “I’m in the mood for pizza, that okay with you?” Jamie asked. 

“It’s perfect,” I replied.  I made eye contact and grinned sheepishly.  “I’m sorry,” I apologized.  “I wasn’t expecting Kevin to be home, and then you were early, and I was trying to get out the door, but my coat got stuck on the hanger and then I pulled too hard and the hanger flew off the rod and hit a print in the hall and bounced back and hit me in the face, so I was a little flustered.”

Jamie looked at me for a minute, processing what I just said, then burst into laughter.  “You are such a disaster, Jenna,” he said, shaking his head.  “Some things don’t change.” 

I touched my cheek.  “Is it that bad?” I asked.  It had stung when it connected but didn’t really hurt now, so I was surprised it was even noticeable. 

Jamie turned on the interior light and inspected my cheek.  “No, it’s fading already.  It was just a bright pink spot—you know how easily your skin gets irritated.”  I narrowed my eyes.  I did know how easily my fair skin got irritated.  If I scratched an itch it looked like a tiger clawed my arm.  But why did he know that?  “Oh, don’t look at me like that.  I only know because when we used to hook up my stubble would turn your inner thighs pink.  It was hot.”  

I felt my face heat up and then I started laughing.  “I had no idea,” I said, once I’d collected myself.  “Well.  Should we go eat?”

Over dinner, I told Jamie about the two houses I’d looked at after work today.  “I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to find something decent in my budget,” I complained.  “They all need something significant fixed or updated, or they’re in sketchy neighborhoods.  I just got a really big raise but I’m trying to be pretty conservative with my mortgage so I can save some money.”

“And you’re not even considering renting because you’re determined to show the world how goddamned independent you are, right?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. 

I glared at him.  “Renting is a waste of time and money,” I informed him.  “If I’m going to pay for something anyway, I want it to be mine someday.”

“Fair enough,” he said.  “You just might be able to find something better if you rent for awhile while you look and save.”

“I know, it’s my backup plan,” I admitted.  “If I don’t find a place by the end of January, I’m going to go ahead and rent for awhile.”

“Good plan,” he agreed. 

I changed the subject and we talked about our families’ Christmas plans for a while.  It was nice hanging out with Jamie.  It wasn’t awkward or weird.  We didn’t have to make idle chit chat to fill occasional silences.  I missed him being around.

After dinner, we headed back to my house and got right to business.  It was even better than Saturday, and I quickly lost track of the number of orgasms I had.  I was half asleep curled up against Jamie when he stroked my hair and softly said, “Don’t be mad J, but I’m going to head out.  I’d like to avoid an awkward morning encounter with Kevin.”

I rolled off him and stretched lazily.  “I don’t blame you one bit,” I replied.  Once he stood, I rolled onto my side and watched him get dressed.  “When do you head back to Seattle?” I asked. 

“The day after Christmas, unfortunately,” he said.  “So I won’t get to see you again before I head back.  But I wasn’t kidding when I said you should come out and visit.  Seriously, just let me know when.”

“I’d love to,” I agreed.  “Let me get moved out of this place first and then we’ll figure something out, okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied.  I started to get up to walk him out but he sat down on the edge of the bed.  “Stay in bed,” he said.  “I can see myself out.  It was really good to see you, Jenna.  Take care of yourself and get out of this hellhole, okay?  You deserve better than living with your dickbag of an ex-husband in the basement of his house.”

“I will,” I promised.  I hugged him and he kissed the top of my head and stood.  “Wait, Jamie?  Tell me what Kevin has been telling people about why we got divorced.”

I pulled the sheet up over myself as I watched Jamie consider this.  Then he frowned.  “I’ll tell you if you really want to know, but I don’t know if it would be helpful for you right now.”

“That bad, huh?” I asked, making a face.  I wasn’t surprised.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said thoughtfully.  “But do you really want one more thing to be pissed about when you still have to look at him on a regular basis?”

“No,” I agreed quickly.  “I don’t.” 

He shrugged.  “If you change your mind, let me know, but I think that’s the right choice for now.”

I frowned and he grinned at me.  “Hey, don’t waste your energy being upset now,” he said.  “Tomorrow you’re going home to deal with your family!  You’ll need all your bad attitude saved up for that.”

I laughed.  “That’s very true,” I responded.  “It’s going to be a shitshow.” 

Continue reading →