Page 90 of A World Without You
“That I’m happy for him.” I take another drink.
Bennett nods slowly. “I’m proud of you.”
“Why?” Another long drink. My glass is basically drained, and I did it so quickly the buzz isn’t even buzzing yet.
“Because you acted like an adult instead of whining for a man who doesn’t want you back.”
The verbal blow makes me exhale sharply. “Ouch, Bennett.”
He shrugs before grabbing the ingredients for a grilled cheese and firing up the stove.
“Should she really have grilled cheese on an upset stomach?” I ask, watching him butter the bread.
“Are you now an expert on parenting because five minutes ago you related my parenting skills to providing a safety net,” he mocks.
I want to throw something at him. Instead, I say, “I’m just saying butter and cheese never help any gastrointestinal issue.”
“It’s an emotionally upset stomach, not a virally upset stomach,” he answers, and I laugh. “At least, I hope. But honestly, it’s not Christmas until someone gets sick.”
“Ahh,” I nod. I notice the second pan and the second loaf of bread. “You have gluten-free bread?”
He freezes for a millisecond. Fast enough that I wouldn’t have noticed if I weren’t paying attention, but pause enough that he’s contemplating his answer. “I grabbed some from the corner store when Mom said you were bringing Josie home. We always have grilled cheese on Sundays.”
“Aww, thank you.”
“So anyway, is that all he said?” he asks, quickly moving past the gluten-free conversation, but I don’t miss the flush of crimson blooming up his neck.
“It’s the gist. But he also said he never wants to see me again.” I think for a moment. “No, actually, he said it’d be easier if he never had to see me again.”
Bennett tilts his head from side to side, considering. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“And I only a little bit deserved it.”
He barks out a laugh. “No, you full-on deserved it, Liv. Don’t be all sweet and innocent because you’re mad about breaking his heart now.”
I glare at his back as he flips the grilled cheese in the pan. I let the smell of butter and cheese on golden bread fill my senses while I ignore my other emotions. A minute passes and a plated grilled cheese is in front of me. I mutter a thank you, and he hand delivers Josie her own sandwich on the couch before returning to me.
“You fell in love, Liv. People do that. And sometimes, they do it at the worst possible time, but it doesn’t always have to have the worst possible outcome,” he says, sitting next to me to eat his own grilled cheese sandwich.
“Right. But this kind of feels like the worst possible outcome. I’m just getting divorced, and all I’m thinking about is Colin. Graham barely crosses my mind, and that makes me a terrible human.”
Bennett takes a bite, contemplating before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Do you miss Graham? Like at all? Because the ink hasn’t even dried on the divorce papers, and you’re ready to declare your heart belongs to Colin.”
I wince because, damn, his words sting. The ink hardly has dried, but Graham and I have been long over. Graham is too proud to admit it, but had we not been married, we would have been over at least a year ago. I swallow hard, knowing how callous it seems for me to feel this way. With love, they say,when you know, you know. But what about when it’s over? Why can’t weknow when we knowthen?
“I miss Bowser,” I confess.
“Really?” He lets out a scoff of disbelief as he refills my empty wine glass.
“Really. Graham and I ran our course. But a dog’s love lasts forever,” I say, and Bennett rolls his eyes. “Would you ever get a dog?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Could you imagine? I’d be cleaning up the puke bowl while the dog was licking up the—”
“Eating!” I interrupt with a mouthful of grilled cheese.
“Sorry, but you get what I’m saying. It’s just me and the kid. I don’t normally have someone grabbing the bowl when I’m across the kitchen and consoling her while I clean,” he admits.
When he says it, there’s a trace of sadness, but it’s overshadowed by the gratitude in his voice. It’s nice to still be wanted somewhere, even if it’s not where I thought I’d be.
