Page 82 of Absolution

“I’m not proud of the choices I made,” she says. “But I did the best I could with what I had. You were the only thing that kept me here, Kyle. I just wish you hadn’t grown up thinking I didn’t love you.”

My throat tightens. I rub my face and nod.

“Yeah,” I say hoarsely. “Me too.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jackie

It’s strange, how quiet the house feels without Kyle’s things scattered around. The air feels lighter, though not necessarily easier. Some nights are still hard. But they’re mine. My hard nights. My space. My rules.

The mornings start earlier now. I wake up before the kids, sip my coffee while the sun crawls over the kitchen counter. I’m still in school part-time, taking classes toward an Associate of Applied Science in Radiologic Technology. It’s not glamorous, but it’s mine. Something I chose for myself, not for a man, not for a family, just… me.

The kids are adjusting. Slowly. Iris still cries sometimes when she thinks I’m not looking. Jemma pretends everything’s fine, overcorrecting with cheer. Levi, ever the quiet one, watches everyone like he’s the glue trying to hold us together. But they’re doing okay. We’re doing okay.

And then there’shim.

Lucas.

We met at the campus bookstore, of all places. He works there and made some joke about overpriced lab manuals and I laughed, genuinely, for the first time in what felt like weeks. He’s nothing like Kyle. He’s not flashy or sharp or strategic. He listens. He asks questions. He doesn’t look through me or around me. He sees me.

It’s still new. Still cautious. We’re taking it slow, I don’t want another relationship, not now. But every time he texts good morning or shows up with coffee between classes, I feel something I haven’t in a long time: wanted, without condition.

Sometimes I miss Kyle. Not the man he was at his worst, not the lies or the silence or the betrayal. But the version of him that showed up in the end.

Towards the end of our marriage, even when I thought he had a mistress, he was more present at home than he’d been in years. More honest. More… human. It made no sense, but I felt closer to him during those last few weeks before the divorce than I had in the final four years of our marriage. Maybe because he finally stopped pretending. Or maybe because I did.

I don’t know.

Sometimes, I’ll catch myself making dinner and glance at the empty spot at the table where he used to sit. Not out of longing, just… muscle memory. Habit. Thirteen years of habit.

Lucas doesn’t try to fill that space. He doesn’t ask about Kyle, doesn’t compare himself. But he knows I’m not fully untethered yet. That part of me is still sorting through the wreckage.

I still dream of Duke sometimes. Still wonder, what he would look like. It’s like the truth about that night reopened wounds that never healed right.

I’m not over it. Over him.

But I’m over being betrayed.

And that’s the difference.

This week, the kids are with Kyle. His mother’s in town.

When Luna described “a former model-looking woman in sunglasses and designer clothes” showed up asking for Kyle, I knew exactly who it was.

I never asked if he’d told his parents about the divorce. It’s not my business anymore. But if I had to guess, she definitely knows now.

According to Luna, she told her he didn’t live here anymore. And that was that. I’m not going to let her get in the way. Not of my peace. Not of my evening.

I don’t have class tomorrow. No school drop-offs. No laundry piles or dinner plans. The house is quiet in a way I’m still not used to, but tonight, I’m leaning into it.

Lucas wanted to see a movie. I suggested we watch one at his apartment instead.

It’s not a grand romantic gesture. It’s not even a decision I made with much weight. But I packed an overnight bag. Lip balm, a t-shirt I actually like sleeping in. Just in case. No pressure. No promises. But something in me said: why not?

He greets me at the door with a soft smile and bare feet, a bowl of popcorn already in hand.

“You okay?” he asks, as I step inside.

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