“Little after midnight.”
“You happy to be going home?”
“If being away for three months taught me anything, it’s that nothing has ever felt like home.”
“Well, now’s your chance to fix that.”
“Maybe. I haven’t talked to Miles since before I left.”
It hasn’t been easy. Being away from him has made me see how much I care about him. Miss him. Want him in my life for more than what we had. I knew that to some extent before, but the distance… it’s not been easy.
“A little birdie told me he’s asked about you once or twice…”
I come to a stop, my heart pounding harder in my chest. Someone veers around me, cursing under their breath as they keep walking, nearly missing me.
“Fuck you, Nash. Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“So you could cut your trip early? Nah. You needed that time away.”
I let out an annoyed sound and keep walking. Of course he would do something like this… but he’s not wrong. Had I known Miles was asking about me, it would have been harder to stay where I was. Having the idea in my head that he was fine without me, didn’t miss me, wasn’t thinking about me, it hurt, but it made it easier to get through this trip. I needed it, and I’m glad I did it.
“Who was it? Was it AJ?”
“Of course it was fucking AJ. I told you I’d pass along your message.”
“That makes me feel so much better,” I say to myself.
“That’s the goal. See you soon. Have a safe flight.”
“I’ll text you when I land,” I say before ending the call.
Taking a Leave of Absence for three months was exactly what I needed. I reset, cleared my mind, and figured some things out about myself that were long overdue. I’ve taken vacations here and there, but my whole adult life has revolved around Franklin—even when I thought it didn’t. Everything I did, was, in some way, due to my marriage. Either because of it or trying to fix it. I realized, with the help of a therapist, that it was nothing but unhealthy. I can’t say I’m fixed, because I’m not. I still have a lotof fucked up things going on in my head, but I plan to continue therapy and keep working at it. Each day gets a little easier. Had I done this years ago—had someone told me I needed this years ago—maybe I’d be in a better headspace today.
When my parents died, we went into a foster home. They were good parents, took care of us as well as we needed, but they didn’t go above and beyond. They were kind of just there… doing the basics. I think they did their best with what they were given. Dealing with three boys with trauma like ours wasn’t easy. I don’t fault them in any way, and I’ve thought about them a lot during this trip. Even wrote them a letter.
Renting a cabin for three months in the upper peninsula of Michigan wasn’t cheap, but my brothers and I got life insurance money from our parents’ deaths. I hadn’t touched mine because my salary at work was enough for what I needed, and Franklin helped pay the bills at the house. He’d done that since we bought it. They were set on auto-pay, something I’m sure he didn’t set up on his own. Regardless, it’s helped me save money and made it easier for me to take this much-needed trip—and continue to help Hollis over the years.
While away, I kept my phone off—except when I did my weekly check-ins with Nash. We spoke for five minutes, enough for him to know I was alive and not being held against my will. Phone went right back off and into the drawer when we hung up. It’s a different type of living up there, nothing like Chicago. I didn’t love it, it isn’t something I’d want to do all the time, but it served its purpose.
The alone time in the woods was beneficial. I feel like I shed a hundred pounds. But now I’m on my way back home, and it’s time to face the music. I have a big mess to go back to—and I need to clean it up. Not just that, but I want to clean it up. I don’t want to go back to the life I had before. I want something better.
Nash picked up my mail for me while he was still in the area, but once he moved to New York a few weeks ago, I had it held at the post office. The first thing I need to do in the morning is stop by to see if I have paperwork from the court.
It only took me two weeks with my therapist and being away from everyone to fully accept that I needed a divorce. I said nothing to Franklin about it, just sent the divorce papers. I don’t want anything from him, just want to be separated… legally. He agreed, which was a shock. I’d planned on fighting him over it. But he didn’t put up a fight. He did the absolute worst thing he could have done. Franklin handled it quietly, making sure no one heard a thing about it. It hurt, I won’t deny that. He swept me under the rug. I’m just another problem for him to overcome. It took me about a week to come to terms with what he was doing, but it was nothing new. A lot of it doesn’t make sense, and I can’t figure out why he would deny me a divorce when we spoke but then willingly signed the papers. Maybe he finally took it seriously? Knew I was serious, and he didn’t want to risk it? I have to accept that there are some questions I’ll never have answers to, especially when it comes to Franklin. He lives to serve himself, and no one else. I’m choosing to look on the bright side.
If he was keeping it quiet, that meant I wouldn’t have to go to court. And I didn’t, nor will I have to. Not only did he keep it quiet, but he somehow got it pushed through immediately—we’ll be officially divorced in a couple of months.
Nash told me he threw a fit when he showed up at the house and got my note. I never told Franklin that I was leaving or what my plans were. All I did was leave him a note telling him I had things to do and wouldn’t be back for a while. I knew he’d find it when he showed up for his “check-in.” He was so angry that he called Nash. I didn’t even know he still had his phone number.
I’d gone back and forth on selling the house, but I’m not in a rush to do so. Franklin and I picked it out together, but it’s not like he was ever there with me. Maybe I’ll sell it one day, but for now, there’s no point in going through all the trouble.
Learning to let go was the hardest part of this entire experience. Funny how I can run into a burning fire with no problem, but dealing with personal things is nearly impossible on the best of days. What’s really going to be difficult is talking to Miles. I hope he’s willing to start fresh. I have not stopped thinking about him since I last saw him. I wanted to call him every day, but his words kept ringing in my head.
“Take some time to think about you.”
“Listen to yourself.”
Those words hit hard. I’ve never focused on what I want. I always worried about what Franklin would say or do, or how he’d react. Putting myself first is a work in progress, but I’m getting there.