Chapter 9 - The Goodbye That Wasn't Really Goodbye
Alexander left for London in September.
Sophie cried at the airport.
I didn't.
At least not until I got home.
For six months, we spoke through video calls.
Alexander helped Sophie with homework.
He attended her recital through a laptop.
He sent books.
He wrote letters.
I didn't realize how much I missed him until something funny happened and my first instinct was to tell him.
Nora noticed.
“You still love him.”
I shook my head.
“Love isn't the problem.”
“What is?”
“Trust.”
She nodded.
“Can trust come back?”
“I don't know.”
“Can you forgive him?”
“I already have.”
“Then what's stopping you?”
I stared at her.
“Fear.”
That was the truth.
I was afraid that if I let Alexander back into my heart, I would become the woman who had once disappeared inside his life.
I didn't want to be his wife if being his wife meant becoming invisible.
Then Alexander came back to Chicago for Sophie's seventh birthday.
He arrived with a suitcase and a book.
No expensive gifts.
No diamond bracelet.
No spectacle.
Just a children's storybook he had written by hand.
Sophie opened it.
The title was The Girl Who Found Her Way Home.
She burst into tears.
“So pretty.”
Alexander hugged her.
I watched.
Later, after Sophie went to sleep, he found me on the porch.
“Thank you for letting me be here.”
“She wanted you here.”
“I know.”
We stood quietly.
Then he said, “I'm going back tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“I'll be back in three months.”
I nodded.
“You don't have to wait for me.”
“I know.”
“You should date.”
I looked at him.
“You're giving me permission?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
“I've learned not to give you instructions.”
I laughed.
For a moment, it felt like the old days.
Except there was no pretending.
No secrets.
No games.
He moved closer.
“I love you.”
My heart stopped.
He continued.
“I know that doesn't fix anything.”
“No.”
“I know saying it now doesn't erase what I did.”
“No.”
“I just didn't want to leave without telling you.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I love you too.”
His breath caught.
“But I don't know how to trust you.”
“I know.”
“And I don't know if we can ever be together again.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
He smiled.
“I'll try.”
I laughed through my tears.
We stood there.
Then he asked, “Can I hug you?”
I nodded.
He wrapped his arms around me.
It wasn't passionate.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was safe.
For the first time in years, I felt safe in his arms.
He left the next morning.
Three months later, he came back.
Then three months after that.
The visits became easier.
The silence between us became softer.
And one evening, after a storm, we found ourselves sitting in Sophie's room while she slept.
Alexander looked at me.
“I don't want another chance because we were married.”
“Then why?”
“Because if we ever try again, I want to do it as two people who choose each other.”
I took his hand.
“What would that look like?”
“Dating.”
I laughed.
“You want to date your ex-wife?”
“Yes.”
“That's ridiculous.”
“Probably.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Okay.”
His eyes widened.
“Okay?”
“Dinner.”
“When?”
“Friday.”
“Just dinner?”
“For now.”
He smiled.
“For now.”
It was not a reconciliation.
Not yet.
May you like
It was something more fragile.
A beginning.
