Page 82 of Just My Ex

I don’t know why, but when I watch Thomas and Henry leave the dining room together, a flash of worry hits my gut.

I stare at Henry’s purposeful walk, the hard set of his shoulders in his grey-blue Henley, and the inked landscape of his forearms.

Except, it’s not worry exactly.

I think that’s the go-to my body automatically slides into. Because as I think about it, while half-listening to the conversation at the table and helping Navie with her peas, I realize it’s not worry.

It’slove.

I do love Henry, not just the old version, but this new one, too.

It’s no surprise because I never really stopped. I’ve been hurting and angry, yes. But I’ve always loved him.

I think maybe I canchooseto love Henry. Really love him. I didn’t choose for our marriage to crumble, but maybe it’s as simple as deciding to step back into it. Making that conscious decision. Because what kind of person do I want to be? Someone who lets fear make all her decisions for her? Or someone who takes that conscious step into the life she wants?

I find myself fiddling with the sleeves of my ivory, ruffled blouse and rubbing my gold necklace as I mull over those thoughts, my food growing cold. Can I choose to do this?

And once dessert has been served, I’m leaning heavily into the “Yes, I can choose this” arena.

Part of me wishes Henry would ask me to stay, that we could get a company to go to the house and clean the damp confetti all up and he and I could be together longer.

But either way, I’m in this. Whatever it means or however much we have to be apart, I think maybe I can do this.

When Thomas and Henry return from answering the door, I’m wiping caramel sauce off Navie’s face. And okay, I’ve been dabbing some off my own shirt, too. I have a problem, okay?

But a thrill goes through me because maybe I can share my decision with him as soon as dinner is over.

He’s rounding the table to return to his seat next to me when I see his face, all “I’ve just seen a ghost” like.

“Thomas, I had Laurette take your dish of ice cream back to the kitchen,” Celine says. “Same with you, Henry, but I can have her bring them back.”

Henry pulls his chair out to get ready to sit. He offers a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m full from dinner, Mom. Thanks, though.”

“Thomas?” she asks before taking a small bite of hers.

“I’m too full, as well.” He brings up a hand. “I’m going to head to bed, actually. Not feeling too well.” He drops a lingering kiss on Celine’s cheek, and she places a hand on his to keep him there a moment longer.

It’s sweet.

“Can you manage okay without me?” Thomas asks, searching her eyes.

“I’m fine. You go to bed, and I’ll be in a little later.”

Henry slumps into the chair next to mine and I try to give him looks to convey that I know he’s not okay and silently asking if can he please tell me what’s going on.

The half shake of his head is enough to tell me,Not here.I can respect that, but still. Something’s not okay, and my heart gives a strange tilt.

Within minutes, the desserts are gone, and we head to the game room where I needle everyone to play pool with me. There are no takers this time, so we settle into a game of Scrabble, one of those jumbo boards with tiles that are triple size of the original ones.

“Let’s play the shortened version,” Celine says, not taking her eyes off me. “I’m tired.”

We do the version where the first person to one hundred points wins. Henry does so in short order with words like “kayaking” and “ineptness.”

“That’s how I feel. Totally full of ineptness,” Alec says. He’s frowning and not happy that Henry beat us all, but I can’t help but think he’s putting on a show more than anything. Like he’s trying to stay angry at Henry. Maybe that fight they had really did ease some of the tension.

Upstairs in our rooms, Navie bathes in bubbles, insisting we both watch her become a mermaid over and over again.

“See my tail?” she asks, kicking her legs smooshed together in the air, getting water all over the floor. Neither Henry nor I seem to have the heart to tell her to stop.

---