Page 17 of A World Without You
Within minutes I’m curled on the couch with a fluffy blanket and a ham sandwich, a sparkling Christmas tree in the corner.
We watch old Christmas movies, and Mom places the turkey in the brine while I lay limp and lifeless on the couch until Dad taps my leg and says to come help prep the rolls.
Guilt snags at my gut because I want to enjoy this—I want to be filled with holiday hope and Christmas cheer, but I’m not. Instead, I feel a little numb and a little broken as I maneuver through the kitchen to prep the dough. I know each step by heart—warming the milk, activating the yeast, adding the flour a little at a time and kneading it to perfection.
The bitterness overwhelming my heart makes me feel like I’ve gone back in time and I’m a teenager begrudgingly assisting my parents, not a divorced thirty-year-old thankful for the two human beings who love her most in the entire world.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
It isn’t until Mom asks that I realize tears are falling off my chin as I knead the dough. I shake my head.
She nods.
“You know, I do, and I don’t,” I confess, letting out a shaking breath. “I want you guys to know I loved Graham. I tried. Some days we both tried, but...” I shake my head. “God, we were terrible together.”
Mom snorts. “You weren’t terrible together. I saw it. I understood. There was a fire between you two from the moment you introduced us at New Year’s. But sometimes fires burn out.”
I crumble, her words hitting me on impact. “Why is getting a divorce so embarrassing?”
“It’s not, honey,” Dad says with a stiff upper lip.
“It feels embarrassing. Like everyone who said I was crazy five years ago is right,” I argue.
Dad shrugs, clearly agreeing with the truth in my statement.
“Oh, it’s okay,” Mom says, rolling the dough into perfect spheres and placing them in the buttered pan.
“It’s not, though. I gave up my entire life for a flame.” I shrug, tears pouring from my eyes like water from a faucet. “So now what? I admit that? I tell the world I screwed my whole life up over a fling?”
Mom tilts her head with sympathy but Dad stays quiet.
“Like, it’s hard not to wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t stayed in Roslyn. If I hadn’t chosen Graham,” I continue.
“Don’t,” Dad interrupts. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t make yourself a victim. And don’t worry about what could have been. You took a chance. You fell in love. It wasn’t right for you, but it isn’t the end of the world.”
“Gerald—” Mom chastises.
“I love you, Olivia. You can regret this. And hell, you might never make it right, but you’re going to be okay.” His words are definitive, but emotion creeps over his features, and he wipes his hands on a towel and leaves the room.
Silence lingers. Long, heavy, and full of insinuation.
“Do you think about him?” Mom asks, cutting through the quiet.
I wince, knowing exactly who she’s talking about and the memory of last night’s dream floods my mind. The details have become fuzzier, but the memory is as real as yesterday. I remember I was happier in the dream, and it’s hard to not wonder what could have been.
“All the time.” I swallow hard. It hurts to imagine where he is right now. Somewhere in the world. I don’t know if he’s laughing or crying. I don’t know if he’s dreaming or wide awake. He’s somewhere—and he’s somewhere without me.
