"I couldn't have done it without you."
"Yes, you could have."
"Maybe. But I didn't have to. Because you were there."
She leans her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her. "I'll always be here," I say.
"I know."
The divorce becomes final on a Tuesday. Julie texts me from her attorney's office.
It's done. Officially over.
I call her immediately.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
"Relieved. Exhausted. Giddy." She laughs. "All of it at once."
"This was like a weight came off me. I'm okay. I really am."
"I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, Ryan."
"Do you want to celebrate? Or commiserate? Or just... be?"
"Can we just be?"
"Of course."
We meet at her new house. She's been working on it for weeks—painting, refinishing floors, tearing out the old kitchen. I'm there with her every step of the way. She hires contractors I work with often, and they help by doing the things we can't. It's starting to look like a home.
We sit on the porch with takeout and beer, watching the neighborhood settle into the evening. I don't know if it's because I'm next to her or if it's because there's an energy around it, but I'm deeply in love with everything about her house.
She turns to look at me. "You've been so patient with me. So kind. I don't know how to thank you."
"You don't have to thank me."
"I do, though. Because you didn't have to do any of this. You didn't have to tell me the truth. You didn't have to help me. You didn't have to stay."
"Julie—"
"Let me finish." She takes a breath. "You didn't have to do any of that. But you did. And I need you to know that it mattered. Thatyoumatter. More than I can say."
My heart is pounding. "You matter to me too."
"I know." She smiles. "I can feel it. The way you look at me. The way you show up. The way you've been there through all of this."
"Julie—"
"I'm not ready," she says quickly. "I'm not ready for... whatever this is. Whatever it could be. I'm still healing. Still figuring out who I am outside of that marriage."
"I know."
"But I want to be ready. Someday. And when I am..." She trails off, her cheeks flushing.
"When you are," I say carefully, "I'll be here."
