Page 16 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
The divorce made me harder.
Though I’d prefer to use the term sturdier or stronger. With Dad out of the picture, someone had to take care of the family while Mom hid in her bedroom and licked her wounds.
Sadie got more sarcastic and jaded.
And Eloise … I find that I don’t quite know how the divorce impacted her. Her effervescent bubbly optimism is totally foreign to me.
Somehow, Lo seemed to retain a happy, starry-eyed view of the world. Of people. Bright and optimistic and romantic. If she has armor, it comes in the form of colorful dresses and a smile wide enough to disarm anyone. I’ve always looked down on her for that, I realize now, but maybe I should have been taking her cues instead.
“Divorce is awful for any kid,” I say.
Sadie scoffs. “Honestly, I’m shocked you turned in your card to the happily single club. Out of all of us,youshould be the most bitter. Not me.”
She might be right, but despite everything, despite the way I’d love nothing more than to climb up in a tower, Rapunzel style, and never come down, I DO have hope for a happy marriage. At least, I did. Not kids, though. At least, that’s been the refrain I’ve repeated to myself over and over for years.
Now that I’m here, in Oakley, seeing Hunter, I realize I can pinpoint the exact moment my desire to be a mom changed.
Still, with or without kids, I’ve always clung to my hope for a happily-ever-after romance. Maybe that hope is a little tattered right now. But it EXISTS. And its existence makes me feel sad for Sadie. But then, her hope for kids makes me feel sad forme.
“What’s that look for?” Sadie asks, narrowing her eyes.
Now is NOT the time to tell Sadie I wish she hoped for love too. Especially given my current secretly single status after a nasty breakup. If I start talking about relationships, she will want to talk about mine, and I’m nowhere near ready to open up about my sniveling, rotten-to-the-core ex, Simon, with any measure of detail.
Instead, I find myself saying words I’ll probably regret later. “I should feel sad about Hunter’s marriage, right? That he and Cassidy didn’t work out? I mean, they have a kid together.”
Sadie’s face is carefully blank. “Are you thinking maybe youaren’tsad about it?”
“No. That’s not—I don’t know. It’s stupid. Everything just feels really stupid right now.”
Most especially,Ifeel stupid right now.
“Merritt, youlovedhim. That’s not stupid.”
My eyebrows go up. Maybe Sadie knew a bit more than I realized about me and Hunter. I wonder exactly how much she saw when she was spying from treetops and under bushes.
Before I can respond, she crows triumphantly. “I knew it! You loved him!”
Ugh. I just walked right into a classic Sadie trap. She isn’t just nosy. No, she’sconnivingin the way she manages to wrangle information out of unwilling victims.
“I was achild, Sadie. I didn’t even know what real love is.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, you did. And you weren’t achild.You were fifteen years old when we left. That’s old enough to fall in love. Not for everyone. But some people do. Andyoudid.”
She might be right, but fifteen isn’t old enough to know anything about how the real world works. You can’t just love someone and expect to be with them forever, or for love to make all your problems go away. I’ve made that mistake twice now. Though, as I’m thinking about it, I’m not sure Iwasin love both times.
I lost a promotion to my ex right before I left New York. Right after I found out he’d been cheating—for months—with someone else in the office. The very public humiliation was horrible. But it wasn’t the crushing heartbreak it should have been.
More of an embarrassed and slightly vengeful anger.
Is it possible that I haven’t loved anyone except Hunter?
That is most definitely a thought to dissect on another day.
“Too bad you aren’t single. You could see if there are still sparks,” Sadie says in a very pot-stirring kind of voice.
Oh, there are MORE than sparks. But I’m pretty sure the lit fuse on my end was extinguished on the very wet log of Hunter’s clear disinterest. He was polite when he helped me with my ankle, but he didn’t seem too excited to sit around and chat. And last night, he couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.
“I thought you liked Simon,” I say.
