Page 30 of A World Without You
“Then the last five years would have been a waste.”
I sigh. “Itfeelslike the last five years were a waste.”
Bennett rests his hand on mine. “They weren’t.”
I meet his eyes, holding the stare. I’ve never felt such little judgment when I tell someone what I did to Colin and how I feel about Graham now. “I still regret it, though.”
“You’re allowed to.” I shrug and he adds, “But I’m sorry I didn’t know it was falling apart.”
I absorb his apology, knowing all the reasons people don’t admit everything is going wrong in their marriage. We’re embarrassed. We’re scared. And sometimes, we want to be completely wrong about our own marriage’s demise, so we wedge our doubt with blind hope. “I’m sorry I didn’t know yours was either.”
He nods in acceptance. “It’s okay. There was a lot of good when it was actually good.”
“I bet. Marriage can be beautiful,” I muse as I smile. “You know what he did after?”
“Which one?”
I scoff out a laugh. “Colin...the original.”
“Ah, yes, OG Colin.” Bennett tilts back his head and nods like,of course, of course.
I shake my head. “Anyway...when I broke up with him at Christmas, he blocked my phone number and all of my social media accounts.”
Bennett nods once, letting me know that is perfectly acceptable behavior I’m complaining about.
“Then two weeks later, seven boxes showed up at Graham’s house in Roslyn—all of which contained my belongings from the apartment. And that was it. No letters, no emails, no texts, no phone calls.” I swallow the bitter taste filling my mouth, then sip on my cider, replenishing my taste buds with apple, cinnamon, and whiskey. “Within a month, his entire family called, ridiculed me, and blocked me too. I lost all of them. Even his brother stopped talking to me after a while. I loved him like he was my own little brother.”
Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t stop confessing. I don’t know why I’m telling Bennett all of this. He’s run in the same circles as Colin. I know he remembers him from all the years we dated. He has all the backstory, and I know the front story brings out every vile and disgusting part about me, but still, I want to tell him. It’s a confession of sorts—my childlike desire to not want to end up on the naughty list this Christmas despite all the people I hurt.
Josie stirs slightly, and Bennett pulls a flannel blanket over her, shushing her lightly, then whispers, “They had every right to react how they did. You can’t fault them for that.”
I nod. I know. I’m not looking for Bennett to say I’m right, and that everything I did was understandable and fine. I just want to confess to someone I respect and have them still respect me back.
“Thank you,” I say.
He almost smiles. “For what?”
“For not disowning me.”
“People can do worse shit,” he says, looking at me across the sofa, his gaze holding my heart. “You’ll be all right, kid.”
I smile, absorbing the grace he’s bestowing upon me without even realizing it. My gaze is drawn to the window in the family room, the sky is black and small snowflakes begin to float to the ground.
“Is it snowing?” I ask in awe, remembering my dream last night.There’s no way.
He nods, his grin cutting through his facial hair as he gently wakes his daughter. “Josie, look. It’s snowing,” he whispers.
“It’s snowing?” There isn’t an ounce of sleep hanging onto her chipper voice as she hops off her dad’s lap and races to the window, her brown curls a tangled mess on the back of her head. “Grandma! Grandpa! Look! Snow!”
The snow is nothing but a dusting, but still, there’s always a little breath of magic in the first snowfall of the season, even if it melts by the next afternoon.
Clint, Shannon, and my parents make their way to the window and huddle around Josie, enamored by the magic of this frigid yet whimsical weather pattern. For several moments, we watch the snow in wonder, and my mind floats to Thanksgiving with Colin and his family and the snow that fell as we ate dessert and watched the flakes float through the sky, just last night in my dream.
It’s a mesmerizing moment, and we all look on with magic in our eyes. I grab my camera off the coffee table and snap a couple of pictures of Bennett and Josie from behind and then next to them, staring out the window watching the snow fall. They barely even blink at the shutters of the camera. I move closer and capture a few of Josie with a bright smile reflected in the window, creating a mirrored image of magic and wonder.
The moment remains quiet as we soak it in. Then Dad breaks the silence and yells, “The ice scooter! It’s a Zamboni!”
