Page 64 of Clean Sweep
Most of the time, I just kept wondering,how is this real?
One topic led to another, and we stumbled onto Ethan and me. I leaned back in my chair, a glass of wine at my fingertips. One leg propped in front of me, braced against the table. Remnants of chicken breast and potato salad lingered on my plate. Too many more bites and I wouldn’t have room for JJ’s dessert, which would be an utter travesty.
“Ethan and I . . .” I trailed away, searching for the right words. Despite telling my divorce story time and time and time again, I still didn’t know if I explained it the right way.
Did a word exist in our language that would encompass how it felt to release the one thing and person I should have held onto all of my life?
“I think we just forgot each other.”
Tanner’s expression softened. My forehead wrinkled and I shook my head in frustration.
“Honestly, I don’t even know if that’s the right way to say it. We started romantically and sweetly and it all seemed like a dream. Then a mortgage, one kid, two kids, four kids came. His job became his escape from the chaos and I grew resentful that he had one. I kept the house running and the kids happy and the mortgage paid. We forgot, at some point, that we were supposed to be a team. I stopped telling him things. He stopped asking. Then, one day, I think we just realized that it was sort of . . . gone. That realization happened when we stopped fighting,” I added quietly. “When we stopped fighting, I knew it was over.”
Though the demise of my relationship was years old, I still felt fresh wounds at the failure of it. I lifted my gaze to Tanner and wondered what I’d see there. Nothing but curiosity, maybe a deep sense of knowing. I didn’t have to perfectly explain it to him. Didn’t need the exact words to convey how I felt.
He already got it.
Despite all Lizbeth’s best efforts, and advice from the book club—mostly Stella, a sixty-something woman that managed the local grocery store and had been through three divorces—none of them seemed to understand. In a glance, I knew Tanner did. It sent my whole body into a loose-as-jello feeling.
“Really rots, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.
“I feel like I failed. Sometimes, I wonder if it would have been easier if he’d just cheated on me or something. The way it happened for us, it feels like I made the decision and that’s a lot of weight to carry. Our divorce was amicable, but I worry that one day my boys will hate me for not trying harder to fix it.”
Tanner shook his head. He leaned back in his chair in a casual pose, and I felt the edge of his sock accidentally brush my bare foot. Any contact sent a little shiver through me, but it seemed ridiculous that one so innocuous engendered sucha strong one.
“No,” Tanner said, “it would have been harder on them if he’d cheated on you. Harder on you as well. Much harder.”
I thought of what I’d said, and felt silly. Of course that situation would be so much worse than this one.
“You’re right.”
“There would have been more betrayal, more insecurity. This is just something you need to let go of within yourself. It comes with time. Or maybe never.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I still feel the effect of our divorce, even though Brooke didn’t cheat on me. It’s been almost fifteen years.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Good to know. Thanks.”
He did that half-smile again and it sent butterflies all the way to my toes. I let out a sigh and wondered where to steer this next. Did I ask him to watch my annual Christmas movie with me?
The thought of snuggling up to hot chocolate, Irving Berlin, and a fire while snow fell outside was utterly and irrevocably the most romantic notion I’d ever had in my entire life. All the book clubs I’d ever had with Grace, Stella, and Lizbeth built up behind this very moment.
Nothing in my life had ever seemed all that romantic now that I looked at it through the lens of time and experience. Yes, Ethan and I had started out in romantic ways but they’d deflated almost as quickly as they’d come.
Tonight, however, felt far more potent.
As if on cue, the music playing in the background shifted to a gentle Christmas song. My mouth opened to ask if he wanted to stay, but before I could get a word out, he spoke first.
“Can I ask you something that’s going to sound ridiculous, but is something I’d really love to do?”
“Of course.”
A hint of nerves appeared in his eyes a moment before he held out his hand.
“Will you dance with me?”
14
