Ali arrived later than I expected. I didn’t mind, honestly, but I thought he would be concerned about getting them to bed early since Sunday nights are basically school nights. I enjoyed giving extra snuggles, I love yous, and encouraging words. But after a while, keeping them awake became a challenge. Sleeping at my house was not a problem, but it would be better for everyone if we didn’t have to wake them. But this was our first go at the kid swap. It may take a few rounds before we get it right.
“So…how did it go?” he asked.
“Great! We had the best time.”
I told him about dinner, the beach, bowling, and seeing Dereck Jang.
“So…they didn’t give you any trouble, then?”
“I mean…they’re kids, Ali. They’re not gonna be angels all the time. But for the most part, they were very good.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
I want to ask how his weekend went and what he got into, but it’s not my business anymore. I’ve been thinking really hard about the other day when he asked me to call first, and I concluded we can’t be BFFs anymore. We’re supposed to be untethering ourselves from each other, and I keep inserting myself into his life. I need to give Ali the same space he afforded me. I wounded him, and he needs to heal. But every time I show up at the house like nothing happened, the healing process resets. We’re in limbo, still married but living separate lives. But our children link us together, and sometimes it’s easy to go on as if we’re still a family because, in a way, we still have to operate as one for the kids’ sake. It’s hard to admit, but that’s pretty selfish of me. I still love him and want to see his eyes and hear him say kind things to me. I don’t think about his needs much at all.
“It’s so quiet,” he said. “Are they sleeping?”
“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize you’d come so late, and they couldn’t keep their eyes open so…”
“Aww man. I didn’t want to encroach on your time by coming early, but… Next time I’ll come after dinner?”
“That would be perfect.”
He nodded and headed upstairs, but I remembered something I wanted to discuss with him.
“Oh! Wait…before you go up, I need your advice.”
“Oh. Ok? What’s up?”
Previously, I was excited to ask him about my candles, but now it feels weird. Like, what if he doesn’t like the idea of me doing it? I mean, I have the skill now, so I have every right to make whatever I want. But crafting has sentimental value for us.
“Ummmm… Well, you see… It’s just… I had all that wax lying around, so I thought I’d make some candles…”
“Ok…”
“I had lots of fun making them, and I made quite a few… And I was thinking about selling them and wanted to know if you thought they were good enough quality. But if it’s weird that I’m doing this, I’ll understand. We had plans to do this together, and now… I won’t do it if it’s painful for you. I just thought I should talk to you first.”
“I appreciate that,” he said, “but I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, you were always so excited about it. Heh, honestly, I think at some point it stopped being my idea and became yours. Besides, you spent so much money buying dyes, and let’s not forget the time you spent growing those soybeans. You should get a return on that investment.”
I was so happy to hear that. “Ok. I’m glad you agree. I just didn’t want it to seem like I was throwing it in your face or anything.”
“I know you wouldn’t do that. Things didn’t happen how we planned, but weirdly it’s nice to know that it’ll still happen despite…”
“Yeah.”
We got caught up in a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes. I always got lost in those baby blues. I knew it wasn’t productive and would amount to nothing, but I couldn’t help it. I hate that he was right when he said love just doesn’t go away. Knowing what I know now, life is about to get really hard for me. And sad.
Luckily for us, Ali is stronger than me and looked away.
“So…let’s see those candles.”
I put them on the coffee table for him to inspect, and he picked up each one and reviewed them from all angles.
“These are really good, Em. You even figured out the block and cylindrical ones. You won’t have a problem making a profit off these.”
“You really think so?”
“Oh yeah. Your shop might be new, but don’t sell yourself short. These are high-quality candles. As long as you market them well, people will buy at a higher price point.”
“Thanks for the advice. I really want to continue doing this.”
“Then I wish you the best of luck.”
“One more thing?” I asked. This might be the last time I say anything about our former life. “Thank you…for everything. I wouldn’t know anything about candles if you didn’t teach me. And we had a really great life. You were better than good to me, and… Well, I just wanted to say thanks.”
I know I put him on the spot, and he squirmed uncomfortably in the light. But I just had to get that out before I begin the awful task of severing my connection with him.
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This post is brought to you in part by the letter A and Deborah Cox.
