Page 4 of Finding Home
“I couldn’t make it down the block without seeing old billboards for ads I did for the local baking network, without seeing my eyes blacked out and whiskers on my face.”
My sister grinds her teeth. “That still makes me rage. Like, are we okay? A cat? Who does that?”
“I feel like I need a fresh start from this life,” I tell my sister. “You know, a place to settle down where no one knows me as the mayor’s ex-wife. Where no one knows me, period.”
Since the divorce, my emotions have shifted from hurt to anger. It’s taken a significant toll on me, and I’m not sure I would have made it through without my sister’s support.
Aside from Kodi, I don’t have any friends or family to lean on. Once I was no longer married to Theodore, I lost all my old friends—who were mainly wives of his political friends. They have all proven to be fake because I thought they were friendswith me for…me. Turns out, it was just being surrounded by my status that made them stay close to me.
I guess I was fake too for having no other friends outside of the political circle.
Kodi remains silent.
“Much of my life has involved doing what others tell me to do,” I continue. “And I’ve never had a say in anything. My mind has been replaying all of this like a movie. I’ve realized that I’ve never really been my own person. I’ve been pushed and twisted into becoming someone I don’t even recognize when I look in the mirror.”
Since the day I discovered my husband’s infidelity, I’ve undergone a profound transformation within myself. From feeling lost, helpless, and unable to get out of bed, to learning about the strength I’ve had within me all along that was simply masked by the person I was made into as his wife. I’ve shed the person I was and have embraced a new, more authentic version of myself. This newfound sense of self is the driving force behind my decision to move.
Don’t get me wrong, I still have plenty of days where it hits me like a ton of bricks. The feeling of losing the one person who I vowed to spend my life with, for better or worse. I spiral just like any human and let the tears fall when my head hits the pillow and mourn the life I once knew.
“I get that. And I truly don’t blame you,” Kodi says. “But the idea of not being close to you isn’t fun for me.”
The reason I fought against moving is because of my sister. Kodi and I are close. She was born just one week before my first birthday. We’re what they call “Irish twins.” We could even pass as twins, with our only difference being she has long hair that’s more natural brown, and I keep mine short with blonde highlights mixed in.
Our mother is a lot like the person I was before the divorce.
A politician’s wife who was the eye of the town. She has always been known for painting, baking, and wearing pencilskirts. It’s all I’ve known growing up, which led me to live the same life she did, I guess. I don’t know how she did it, because while I kept a happy face on at all times, looking back, I was miserable.
Well, that’s only partially true.
I was miserable in the position I was in. But I loved my husband.
Or I thought I did.
There was always a part of me that thought my sister would have been the one to end up in the political spotlight in some way, shape, or form. But she got the better end of the deal, being a rebellious child who hates politics. She got herself a good social media gig doing interior design home projects until she graduated college and landed a job working for a company that does everything she was already doing.
She’s damn good at what she does.
“The idea of it isn’t fun for me either,” I admit.
“How far away is it?” Kodi asks.
“Well…” I avert my gaze from her and continue to pet Reginald.
“Blair Andrews! I have to get on a plane to see you, don’t I?”
I cringe at the use of my full name. Not just my full name but my fullmarriedname.
“I mean…you don’t.” I shrug. “But it’s kind of a long drive. About sixteen hours long. A drive I’m actually planning to take next week.”
“Did you say a sixteen-hour drive? And next week?”
Pulling my laptop off the coffee table, I open it to my recent tab. “Look how cute,” I say as I turn the device to face her.
She looks down at the screen, and her eyes widen. “Wyoming?” she asks before scrolling through the page with her finger on the trackpad. “How did you even find this place?”
“I found it through an extensive search of small towns.”
She leans closer, scrolling back up to the top of the page. “There’s literally one photo on that page that shows a lake and some trees. Show me more.”
