Not What I Expected

I sniffled while hiccupping on a shaky breath. “And something inside of me just snapped. Like an avalanche … it was unstoppable. One ugly comment led to another. Just … two people who had loved each other for what felt like a lifetime … slinging mud, ripping open old wounds, and slashing new ones. And he thought it was just me having a moment. A breakdown. He …” I choked for a few seconds, covering my mouth with my hand while I silently sobbed.

Kael tightened his grip on my finger, but that was it. He gave me space.

“H-he had n-no idea …” Squeezing my eyes closed, more tears made their way free. “I w-wanted out. I n-needed out.” Forcing my eyes open, I met his gaze and swallowed the choking emotions. “I said I wanted a divorce.” I bit my quivering lip for a few seconds. “And he left. That was the last time I saw him.”

“Elsie …” he whispered.

I lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Only two of my children know. Amie knows … I think her mom might know. That’s it. So to most everyone, my story is tragic and that of a grieving widow. It is tragic. I am a widow. But my grief is complicated—my baggage is heavier than most people imagine.”

Kael kept an unreadable expression on his face. What could he say? There wasn’t anything to say. Yes, I knew I didn’t actually kill Craig. I knew it was an accident. But sometimes the heart held onto the guilt until it left a permanent stain. I would always feel responsible for Craig’s death no matter what my brain could rationalize.

“Go be thirty, Kael. Be the wanderer you were born to be. You are kind beyond words. You carry a lot of baggage for people, but you also know how to let it go before it breaks your back. I don’t regret my life’s path. Don’t ever regret yours. And don’t let someone take you down a road you don’t want to explore. I’m sure you’ve left an unintentional trail of broken hearts because it’s impossible to not love you.”

“You love me?”

I released his finger and brushed past him. “Does it matter?”

“I think it matters to you.”

Laughing in the most painful way, I planted myself on the opposite side of the kitchen as far away from him as possible. “Once. I think we should have had sex once and moved on. That’s as casual as I can be. That was my lesson to learn. I let Craig go because I knew he loved me in a way I couldn’t reciprocate any longer. And unrequited love is awful—for both people.”

“Jesus …” he whispered, resting his hands on his hips while glancing up at the ceiling. “You think I’m incapable of love. You think my not wanting a wife and children means I don’t want love … or that I don’t know how to love.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you feel. And maybe that’s because I can’t imagine what my life would have been like without marriage and children. I just know that when Craig died, part of me died. And the only thing that kept me together was the comfort of my children. Love, in my life, has been defined by everything you don’t want. So … I don’t know how you feel. If you don’t have family, what do you have?”

“I have the people in my life. And maybe it’s not the same people now as it was ten years ago. And ten years from now, it might not be the same people as now. I’ve met many people on my travels. And in those moments, they were my friends … they were my family.”

“Women … you’ve had relationships. You’ve been monogamous?”

“Yes.”

“And how did that end?”

“Mostly good. Sometimes bad.”

“Because they wanted you to commit to more?”

His face twisted and he shook his head. “Because one side or the other was no longer feeling satisfied with the relationship. So it was time to move on. And I suppose in a perfect world people would fall in and out of love at the same time, but it’s not a perfect world.”

“Have you ever lived with a woman?”

He nodded. “Once. We were roommates?”

“Not intimate?”

“We had sex. Then it ended.”

“Because you had sex?”

“Because we were roommates.”

I frowned.

“For the record … I haven’t lived very long with anyone, male or female. I like my space. It keeps me grounded and happy. And therefore, I have more energy and desire to spend my time helping others because I’m not sitting around being pissed off at a million tiny little things someone does that drives me insane.”

Ouch.

I flinched.

“You asked. I’m giving you total honesty. I think kids are great. I was really good at being one. I just don’t want the responsibility, and I don’t think this world needs to add to its population at the moment when we haven’t figured out how to take care of all the humans who are already here.”