‘Oh, so you’re friends of his?’ I asked.
When Julian and I were married, I only met a handful of his friends. Most of the people we socialised with were his business associates and their wives. The wives didn’t care for me much, which in retrospect doesn’t surprise me. I was fresh-faced and largely optimistic about life, whereas they were predominantly jaded-but-pretending-to-be-happy women who were obsessed with one-upping each other and, without exception, hated their husbands.
It’s no wonder I never fit in.
‘Hmm, kinda,’ Trudy replied. ‘He and Dale did a project together late last year.’
She left it at that, and I got the sense that Trudy was not particularly keen on Julian.
‘So, what do you do?’ she asked. ‘Your job, I mean.’
‘I run my own company – supporting people who are going through a divorce,’ I replied. If pressed, I would explain further but I found that this usually satisfied people’s curiosity, and I certainly didn’t want to come off as braggy.
‘Wow, that’s fantastic – good for you, hun,’ she said, which could have sounded patronising but didn’t. ‘And areyoudivorced?’ she asked with the kind of head tilt that signposts pre-emptive sympathy.
‘Er, yes actually,’ I replied, leaving it at that.
Trudy didn’t seem to know that Julian and I were once married, but I wasn’t going to volunteer that information. She and Dale were Julian’s guests and he could tell them if he wanted to.
‘Oh, that’s too bad,’ she said, shooting me the pitying smile I’d expected.
People often commiserated when they found out I was divorced, but I was content with my life – and proud of what I’d built.
With women and men looking to the Diva for inspiration and support, hoping to emerge empowered from one of the most difficult times of their lives, I had a responsibility – one I took very seriously.
That’s why I focused on self-care, sayingno, and setting boundaries – and yes, sex positivity. Never underestimate the power of reclaiming your sexual agency.
‘Though, lord knows I’ve contemplated divorcing Dale a dozen or more times over the years,’ Trudy confided, drawing me back to the conversation. ‘But that’s marriage, isn’t it? Most of the time you love ’em to bits, but every once in a while, you fantasise about being single.’
She laughed to herself, then sighed wistfully as she gazed at the back of Dale’s head. It was a good thing he and Christos were deep in conversation – something about golf. I doubted he’d be thrilled about Trudy’s take on marriage. ‘Yep,’ Trudy continued, ‘Dale can be a real pain in the ass, but I love him. I’m not going anywhere.’
That was a lot to unpack. Not the least of which was that even happily married people, which I suspected Dale and Trudy were, fantasised about being single sometimes. But for those people, divorce wasn’t a serious option. They worked through it and found a way to stay.
With Rick and Julian, staying married would have been disastrous. I knew that with total certainty – I still do. But with Tommy…
Had we given up on us too easily? Or maybe it was all my doing – hadIgiven up too easily? I’d been so sure we could only be happy living in our London flat and doing London things with our London people. What if I’d been willing to compromise, joining Tommy in far-flung places and working remotely instead of going into the office?
This was the big, bad, hairy question rattling around my head as I rode in a golf cart on a tiny Greek island, seated next to Trudy from Ottawa.
But nothing good could come from conducting a deep dive into my marriage with Tommy. Not right then, anyway. Besides, we’d arrived.
The three of us climbed out of the golf cart and I hitched my beach tote onto my shoulder and looked around.
‘Oh wow,’ I whispered to myself. Docked beside the pier was the most beautiful sailboat I’d ever seen. Not that I knew much about sailboats, mind you, but everything on it gleamed – the hull, the chrome, even the polished teak.
‘Have a wonderful day,’ said Christos, flashing that brilliant smile of his. He drove off, and Dale, Trudy, and I wandered down the pier towards the sailboat.
‘She’s a beauty,’ said Dale with obvious appreciation.
‘Good morning! Welcome!’
We turned at the sound of the voice and bustling towards us was a woman around my age, with an olive complexion and the most glorious long, dark, curly hair. She was dressed in navy shorts and a white tailored shirt, the Aetheria logo adorning the pocket. A young Asian guy trailed behind her, wearing the same uniform and lugging a camera bag.
‘Hi, everyone, I’m Niki Fragoulis,’ she said in a broad Australian accent, ‘guest services director.’
Trudy and Dale saidhelloand Dale introduced them both.
‘And I’m Ally,’ I said, stepping forward. ‘You’ve been liaising with Maya from my team.’
