Before I could even get out of the car or answer, Emily was rushing down the driveway. She was the last person I wanted to see, another reminder of how the life I had led was going to be gone, the rug pulled out from under me with all these people that I had lovedriding away on it. Her face was ashen as she hugged me. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m assuming you knew the whole time?” I asked it like a question, but I knew that not much got past Emily, especially when it was happening under her roof.
She shook her head. “I had no idea you were pregnant.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
She opened her mouth, and I could tell she was going to lie, but then her expression shifted, and her eyes filled with tears too. “Please, Ann, you are my daughter. You mean everything to all of us.”
I put my hands on my hips. “So you’re going to stand there and tell me that you believe that I mean everything to your son?” I paused and gave her my most sarcastic look. “I guess I always just assumed a man I meant everything to wouldn’t screw his girlfriend when he was supposed to be committed to me.”
She shrugged. “But he never cared for her. Sometimes sex is just sex.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Well, I’m glad you feel that way. You two can just take your free-love, no-consequences, no-apologies selves and do whatever the hell you want to. I, for one, am out of here.”
Ben grabbed my arm, and I couldn’t help but say, “I thought this was the thing you hated most about your dad, the one thing that you would never do.”
He looked down at his feet and back up at me. “Sometimes we become what we hate.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but see my own hypocrisy. I had thought about letting Holden be the father of my child. I had considered never even telling Ben. The very thing I hated most about Lovey.Sometimes we become what we hate.
As I slammed the door behind me, I planned to go straight to Holden. I would be back in his house like I had never left, back to my safe, stale, contrived life. I sat in the car at the stop sign for a long time, willing myself to pull off toward the highway, to drive toward the life that felt like it had all but been prearranged for me, like Ben was the rest stop I had pulled into on a detour toward my fate. But, as cold and closed off as I felt in that moment, I still knew what it was to be truly loved. I knew what it was to feel like one lifetime wasn’t enough. And I knew I’d never have that with Holden. But maybe someone else would. I heard the engine turn over as if I hadn’t been the one to turn the key. And when my car started down the road, I realized that I had no idea where I was going to go.
I couldn’t go home. I wasn’t ready to ruin my parents’ lives just yet by telling them that they had, in fact, been right about Ben—and everything else, really. We had gotten married too fast. We hadn’t known each other well enough. It was all just a fairy tale, minus the happy ending. I thought back to that night in the bar, to those days following, to how exuberant I had been, how certain that Ben was what I had been waiting for. And, in a lot of ways, he had been. What we had shared was incredible and passionate, the kind of love that romance novels were written about. Romance novels, the steamy kind. Not epic love stories. I was relieved when the tears finally came, when I could cry for what I had lost. Ben called and called and texted and texted, but I didn’t have to answer him anymore. It was over. We were over. And I didn’t owe him anything. He deserved to wonder where I was, to wonder if I was okay. And he should have known by now that I wasn’t.
Driving down the tree-lined streets of Salisbury’s historic district, the setting sun reflecting off of its beautiful, oldest homes, pulling into one and then knocking on the door of The Oaks Bed & Breakfast, isperhaps one of the lowest points of my life. But I didn’t have anywhere to go. Rob was my only real friend in town, and I certainly couldn’t stay with him. And I wasn’t ready for the humiliation of admitting what had happened to anyone, not even the priest.
Lucky for me, the room was warm, the bed was soft, and, despite the pain in my stomach and the even stronger one in my heart, I awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking, which meant that, against all odds, I had fallen asleep. I realized that I had been dreaming of Paris, of strolling down the riverbank and laughing, sitting at corner cafés and eating baguettes and cheese. I had been totally, utterly alone in a foreign country, and I had been as happy as could be. It was as comforting as the incredible breakfast I gorged myself on. Physically, I was feeling a little better. Less pained, though still very, very empty.
It wasn’t terribly surprising that I was the only person in the restaurant that morning. And, knowing that I couldn’t face the truth for a little bit longer, I asked the slender, aging woman who brought my plate, “If I stay here for two weeks, could I get a special rate?”
She smiled. “Of course. Are you here for a special occasion?”
I laughed ironically. “Well, I’m not sure that being too afraid to tell your family and friends that you’re divorcing your husband is a special occasion, but, unfortunately, that’s why I’m here.”
She patted my hand, sat down across from me and said, “That’s how I got here too. You just stay as long as you like.”
It may not have been Paris, but the bread was almost as good. And the airfare didn’t cost me a dime.
•••
There’s no such thing as “out of the blue,” and surprises are very rare. Because, if we fine-tune that voice in our heads, that one that’s talking to us all the time, we already know what we thoughtwe didn’t. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Ben sitting on a bench in the garden of the Saint Catherine House, where my office was, that morning when I got to work. In the shade of the ancient trees, surrounded by cheerful flowers and chirping birds, Ben seemed almost innocent, like maybe we could start all over again, go back to that dark bar that night and rekindle what might have been.
But then he said, “Annabelle, you can’t just freeze me out like this. We’re madly in love with each other. Don’t throw it away on something stupid.”
It made me realize the wide and gaping sinkhole that stood between what he thought was stupid and what I thought was stupid. Lying in bed at The Oaks the night before, I thought I could get over it. I thought that maybe Ben and I would have a chance to pick up the pieces and move on. But seeing him sitting on the front lawn, as handsome as he’d ever looked, the devastation rimming his eyes, I knew that time could never heal this wound, that I could never move forward in good conscience and have a family with a man that I didn’t trust.
“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t have a child together,” I said, unable to catch the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
Ben shook his head. “Don’t say that! I wish we had. You know I wanted this baby more than anything.” He looked down at his hands. “We still can. You heard the doctor. We can get pregnant again. Then maybe you would be willing to fight for this. For us. Why aren’t you willing to fight for us?”
I crossed my arms. “Ben, this is crazy. You’re standing here acting likeIdid something toyou. I’m not the one that cheated. I’m not the one that couldn’t make it two years without sleeping with someone else.”
I could see the tears filling his eyes. “But you have to forgive me, Annabelle. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. You know I don’t love her. You know this wasn’t about love.”
I shook my head, feeling the anger rise up in me. “No, Ben. No, actually. I don’t know it’s not about love. I don’t know what it was about, but, whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t devotion to me.” I paused and took a deep breath. “And, furthermore, if you can’t talk to me about what’s bothering you, and you’re going to run off to Laura Anne every time you’re upset, then we don’t have a marriage at all.”
He reached out and took my hand. “But we can work on that. We can go to therapy. Build our communication skills.”
