Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

After 10 days with my parents and Practice’s parents, it was time for us to leave. I had a feeling that my mother could tell something was going on, but she never asked. Practice’s parents were completely focused on Christmas. Theirs was a holiday that lasted three days.

It felt very “don’t ask, don’t tell”.

The day after Christmas, we left Michigan for the drive to drop Practice off at his friend’s house in Ohio - from there, they would leave for their ski week. We spent the night at the friend’s house, and then I took off after dropping them both off at the airport.

Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. I drove straight to Mr. Hot’s apartment.

We hadn’t been able to talk the entire time I was gone. He didn’t hook up a phone, there was no email. The last time I’d seen him was when I dropped off the cats. As far as I knew, he’d thrown the cats out on the street or taken them to a shelter and moved back in with his wife.

As I was getting closer, this song came on the radio. I took it as a sign.

“I got fifteen miles to go now
And I can hear my baby calling my name”

I parked and ran, full speed, up to the second floor. I knocked. And oh mah holy hell y’all, he opened the door.

“Sorry it took me so long to get the door opened, J.R. was asleep on my chest and I didn’t want to wake him up.”

This was the man who told me that he had no way of relating to cats…that he’d never had one, and didn’t especially like them. And now, my J.R. was laying on his chest.

“Where’s Riski?” I said, looking deep into his eyes.

“Probably on top of the kitchen cabinet. She only comes down to eat and poop.” Neither one of us had moved. I was standing just inside the doorway.
“We need to talk. I came here right from Ohio. I haven’t been home. I have everything with me, but Practice is going to be calling me every night. If I don’t answer the phone, he’s going to probably get on a plane and come home. He doesn’t love me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me. I don’t want to be married to him anymore, but we’ve got to figure out what we’re going to do. I won’t have any money. You have kids. I told him I was in love with someone else, but I didn’t tell him who.”

I said all this in a rush, without a breath. Mr. Hot put his hands on my shoulders. “You told him what?”

“I told him, right before we left for Michigan, that I was in love with someone else. I was laying on the couch and he was getting stoned again, and I just blurted out, ‘I don’t know why we’re married. It’s obvious you don’t love me. I don’t love you, and I don’t know why we got married. I finally figured out what love is when I fell in love.’”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘What do you mean you fell in love?’ and I said, ‘I’m in love with someone and that’s how I know I don’t love you and you don’t love me. ‘ And then he got up and walked over to the couch. He picked up the end of the couch where my feet were and acted like he was going to tip it over on top of me. I took off my rings and threw them at him.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. He walked off, and I stayed on the couch. Then he came back into the room and said, ‘We’re still going to Michigan for Christmas, and we’re going to pretend that none of this happened. Then I’m going skiing with R. We’ll talk about this when I get back.’ And that was it. We left the next day and never talked about it the entire way. Six and a half hours; 300 miles. Not a word.”

***************************

I was never one to make waves. I knew I was in love with Mr. Hot, but I would never, ever ask him to leave his children. I was scared of driving up to Michigan with Practice - I didn’t know what he would do. I knew what his temper was like, and although I can’t believe that he would have ever lifted a finger to me, he wasn’t above hurting himself.

I remember one argument where he bit a hole through his lip - blood poured down his chin - I always thought that it was solely to prevent himself from hitting me. He turned the anger inward.

I didn’t want to ruin his parents’ holiday. I wanted to spend some time with my MomandDad - they would never understand this. No one they knew got divorced; no one in our family got divorced. You married for life - happily or not. Suck it up.

I wanted Practice to go out west so that I could have some time alone when the holidays were over. I wanted to be able to think through what I needed to do, with or without Mr. Hot in the picture.

I needed to think.

***************************

“Sit down”, he whispered as he took his hands off of my shoulders. He moved his book off of the couch. “You’re freezing”, he handed me a blanket. “Here.”

I curled up on the corner of his couch. J.R. started head-bumping my hand and I scratched him. Riski appeared from the kitchen. She jumped onto the arm of the couch. I looked at my cats. I looked at the man I loved. As silly as it may sound, this felt familiar. And safe.

“What have you been doing?”, I asked. Wanting to know, but not wanting to know, if he had really moved out. How his wife was reacting. How his children were. Most of all, how his children were.

And so we talked. And as we talked, and he held my hands, he told me that he didn’t want to be alone. He loved me and wanted to spend his life with me. His kids were young, and yes, divorce would hit them hard, but he’d make it work. He and his wife lived like brother and sister. They were together out of convenience, not because they had anything in common. But he was sure that she’d take him back; she’d always loved him way more than he loved her; if I felt like I had to stay with my husband. He’d understand. But he wanted me to know he was serious about this, and it was up to me. He wanted me, but he couldn’t spend the rest of his life alone.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So much of what I was hearing was the typical “we never have sex” story that men told their mistresses. And yet, he’d already moved out. This wasn’t some “after the kids are older” or “I can’t divorce her because she’ll take me for everything I’ve got”. He had already given up his life for me. Because how can anything be “normal” after that? You can’t undo what he’d done.

Instead of laughing or crying, I took my hands out of his and got up from the couch. I reached for his hands, and pulled him to a standing position.

“I still have to be at my house to answer the phone. They’re supposed to land in a couple of hours. He’ll call once they get to R’s house. Once he calls, I’ll pack some clean clothes, some more food for the beasts, and I’ll grab a bottle of wine. Then I’ll come home.”

He put my hands around his back. In doing so, he pulled me closer to his chest and kissed me on my forehead. I looked up again. He smiled (fuckin’ dimple) and kissed my lips. For a very.long.time.

“I’ll go with you. And then we’ll come home.”

…to be continued…

—- It took us another hour to get out of there. It was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me. I had never felt so loved, so warmly protected, so sexy. And yet, I still had to tell everyone in my life that my marriage was over. Including my husband. —-

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