What Lovers Do(78)

“We’re having a chick talk. You know this, right?”

“Yes. It’s yet another new low for me.”

He laughs. “For us, buddy. For us.”

“I adopted two more dogs from the shelter after we broke up … or whatever it was we did.”

“Wow. Okay. Instead of eating or drinking or hooking up with three women in two days, you’re filling your emotional void with shelter dogs. That could get out of hand, buddy.”

Facing forward again, I drop my head back and close my eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Do you really like Sophie? Or does her pregnant state remind you of Millie and that’s what you can’t handle?”

I lift my head and shoot him a sideways glance. “You know the answer to that.”

“Uh … I actually don’t. Do you?”

I don’t know the answer to anything right now. I’m tired of being held at arm’s length from the life I want.





“Can you keep the dogs next week too?” Millie asks at our weekly dog swap. The one where she doesn’t let me in the house I bought while she was pretending to get pregnant with my baby.

“Millie, I’ll take both dogs every week,” I say from the porch; not even, more like the end of the sidewalk leading to the porch.

She gives me a bratty eye roll. “Nice try. I’m taking a trip. I’ve uh … met someone.”

“Yes. I heard. You found a virtual stranger to impregnate you. Congratulations.”

For an unguarded moment, Millie gives me a glimpse of the woman I married. For an unguarded moment, she shows me something resembling an expression of true regret. And in the next breath, it’s gone.

“It wasn’t planned.”

“Maybe keep that to yourself. No child needs to know they were unplanned. Unwanted.” I whistle for the dogs to come with me.

“Shep … you have to know that I would have had your baby had I been pregnant when we had that scare.”

“Jesus, Millie. What is wrong with you? How generous of you to say that you wouldn’t have terminated a pregnancy had you really been pregnant.” I shake my head, opening my car door. “I loved you. I loved you as much as any man can love a woman. But now … I don’t know you. I don’t see that woman. I’m embarrassed to say that I fell in love with you and married you.”

She quickly wipes her eyes. Her tears don’t touch me. I don’t feel them. I don’t understand them. Not now. Not ever again.

“You were this larger-than-life person, Shep. Everyone loved you. Everything you did turned into a huge success. And I lived in your shadow. I think you liked it. The woman behind the man. Can you imagine what it would have been like for me had we had children? I would have been Shep’s children’s mom. Millie? Millie who? Oh, yeah. Millie the stay-at-home mom. And suggesting I wanted anything less would have made me into some ungrateful monster. An unfit mother and wife who chose a career over her family. So even if I managed to escape the shadow of you, I’d always live under a cloud of shame for wanting something else, something more.”

I hold my tongue, not because she’s right. I’ll acknowledge that she’s had many feelings about us, about her future, her dreams, her goals. But all the scenarios she’s played in her head never happened. Our marriage crumbled because she predicted our future on assumptions that weren’t based on anything but her fears and insecurities. If two people speak at the same time, nothing is heard. If two people listen at the same time, nothing is spoken.

I listened, but she didn’t speak. So I spoke. And sometimes my words were my feelings, and sometimes my words were guesses as to what she was thinking. It’s unfortunate, just incredibly sad, that when she finally found her voice, she used it to end our marriage.

I don’t hate her. I’m numb to her, too disconnected to feel anything, to feel her.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX





SOPHIE





Define failure. Well, I’d define it as the security company installing cameras and a security system to keep my ex-boyfriend out of my house while he’s still in my house.

“Where should we put the urn?” Jimmy asks, staring at it on my coffee table next to his bare feet.

He showered this morning. It’s a small victory. I’m celebrating all small victories in an effort to keep the baby healthy. I’ve been reading more books on pregnancy, and they all stress the importance of not stressing.

Oops …

Now my ex and his dead mother are “informal settlers” in my home.

“So … I assume you’ll inherit some money, which will allow you to get your own place?” I’m trying not to be insensitive, but I need some answers.

“Mom didn’t leave me much, but how do you feel about a swimming pool? I’ve always wanted one. I love the water. Did you know I was on the swim team in high school? I still hold the record for the two hundred butterfly. I could have been the next Michael Phelps, but we moved, and my new school didn’t have a swim team.”

I glance up from my crocheting, gently rocking in my swivel chair. “No. I didn’t know about your swimming career. You’ve never mentioned it. But if you’ve always wanted a pool, and you can afford a house with a pool, then I think you should go for it. I’m sure your mom would have wanted that for you.”