This time my cheeks heat. Perfect? Me? I’m an absolute disaster.
I shake my head as my phone chimes and I see that Marvin is here with my food. I need some time to mull over what Ben said. I get up and grab the to-go bag, the non-discreet bottle of wine and my Oreos by my front door.
“No judgment,” I say as I place them all on the table next to his apology cake.
“Not from me,” he says, petting Mikey before placing him on the couch as he stands to his full height.
As large as he is, he’s also gentle as he slides his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “I’d understand if you don’t want to see me or my brother again. Thank you for listening, and if you’re ever open to being friends, just know that I’d really like that,” he says, giving me the sweetest dimpled smile. “Enjoy the cake.”
He leaves my home without me saying another word and something loosens in my chest.
I may or may not cry while drinking the bottle of wine and half the heart cake later that night. My thoughts filled with ever confusing feelings about what I want and what I deserve.
I could feelmy ass getting bigger. Between not going back to the gym again and the exorbitant amount of takeout I was devouring, I needed to make a change.
That’s why my stupid ass is at Trader Joe’s on a Saturday and I’m questioning every mistake I’ve ever made in my life. Trader Joe’s is like a grocery store created in an alternate reality. No one knows how to act. The store is too small, and despite its poor design and tremendous crowd, I’m still here because their food is amazing. I’m shit in the kitchen, and they have the best freezer meals that even someone like me can’t fuck up, not to mention that they’re portioned to where I can usually eat all the meal in one sitting, or one half for lunch and the other for dinner.
My cart is dangerously full of food I don’t need, but I rationalize that it’s cheaper than getting it delivered to my house. There are a few bottles of wine and some sorbet I can’twait to eat as soon as I get home. Once the semester starts, I usually only drink on weekends. But I’m in the midst of a mid-life sad girl summer or something similarly tragic.
I’ve been thinking about reaching out to Ben, now that I’m no longer in a hormonal spiral, and looking to savor some good out of these last weeks of summer. Despite wanting to use my very expensive Avalon membership, I haven’t bitten the bullet yet. Something is holding me back from going for it. Maybe I’m still upset that they lied or I’m worried about what would happen if I did agree to some sort of friendship with Ben or Gavin.
All I know is I’m not going to make the decision lightly. If I decide to forgive, truly forgive them, I can’t hold any resentment and I’m not sure if I can do that right now.
I can barely move my cart down one of the narrow aisles as another cart hits the end of mine. I take a deep breath instead of losing my shit at the slightest inconvenience, but when I look up and see that it’s Will with a full cart of food, including baby food, I consider choosing violence.
I can count on one hand the amount of times he went grocery shopping when we were married.
He doesn’t look surprised to see me and I’m getting really concerned that he really is following me. This is just too many coincidences. Tampa isn’t a small town. I shouldn’t have to run into my ex-husband this often. It honestly feels like I’m in my own personal Truman Show hell and everyone is seeing what it’s going to take to finally make me crack.
“Kate,” he says, trying to act surprised when he sees me.
“Do I need to get a restraining order?” I snap back.
There are too many instances that don’t make sense. Sure, the sushi place I could understand, but brunch and now Trader Joe’s?
“Jesus, Kate, when did you become so paranoid?”
“Maybe when my partner of nearly two decades got someone pregnant and ruined my marriage in a blink of an eye, or something,” I say, going to move my cart and his large hand clamps down on the side and he invades my space.
My spine stiffens, and my heart rate quickens. I know I’m in a public space, that he can’t hurt me here, but there’s still an underlying fear.
I swallow thickly, staring into brown eyes I don’t recognize anymore as he sneers at me.
“Some things don’t change do they? Still a lush,” he says, nudging the neck of one of the wine bottles in my cart.
It makes bile rise in my throat. I didn’t realize how much more I started to drink toward the end of my marriage. How I used alcohol to wash away what was a clearly failing relationship. He’s all too eager to rub it in my face, and gaslight me into thinking it was all my fault.
I know that the collapse of us was a two way street, but what he did was inexcusable.
“Will, I suggest you back off.” It comes out in a harsh whisper.
“Listen, I’m sick of you holding this shit over my head. We’re over, been over a long fucking time. Give me my company and you’ll never have to see me again.”
I’m speechless as an arm wraps around my shoulders, making me flinch. When I glance to my right, it’s Gavin. A slightly yellowed bruise still showing on his eyebrow.
“You get everything you need, baby?” he asks, using his body to create space between Will and I.
Patrons of the grocery store are getting pissed as we block the soup dumplings and Will looks at Gavin with distaste, but backs up out of my space. It shouldn’t excite me that Gavin is taller or bigger than Will, but it does.
