I had spent the morning in the city, tackling some errands. One of them being meeting with my attorney to set up a trust for Thomas from part of Evan’s life insurance. I had reflected a lot those past few days, and one thing I was certain was that Thomas needed to be taken care of. He was Evan’s child, and if Evan were alive, despite the circumstances, he wouldn’t have turned his back on him, like my father had on me. I didn’t want any other child to feel that same sense of abandonment I had growing up. So even if Evan couldn’t be here for Thomas physically, I wanted to make sure he was financially. I had set everything up in Theo’s name until Thomas turned eighteen and planned on informing Theo once I managed the strength to call him.
I had met DeAndre for a quick lunch and filled him in on all the details of my trip, surprised when I was actually able to manage a laugh over his theatrical response to it all. I was now facing the final and most dreaded chore, picking up the rest of my things from my former job. I had called Pria and asked her to box everything up for me. She promised she wouldn’t give anyone a heads-up that I was coming in, so I could hopefully get in and out unnoticed. Just as my luck would have it, I was looking down at my phone, texting Pria, and literally walked right into Jonathan as I was entering.
“Jillian.” He grabbed my elbow to steady me on my feet.
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I jerked my arm from his grip.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I looked away.
“Jillian, come on. Can you at least look at me?”
I pushed my hair behind my ear and finally locked eyes with him.
“Can we go across the street for coffee?”
“I…um…Pria is waiting for me,” I stammered.
“Just ten minutes?” he pleaded.
“Fine.” I sighed, following him out the door and to the Starbucks across the street.
I ordered a small coffee just to appease his insistence that I order something, then took a seat in a spot that was all too familiar to me. We had sat at this same table not so long ago, even though it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since then. I remembered his hand, reaching across to mine and his fingers sliding up and down my bare arm. I hated myself for relishing the attention he was showing me, but yet I didn’t pull away. That night, I went home and had sex with Evan after not sleeping together for months.
I had to prove to myself that Jonathan’s touch meant nothing to me, and I was still very much in love with my husband. Unfortunately, it only proved my theory wrong. It wasn’t the slow, gentle lovemaking we normally had. Instead, it was rushed, robotic, emotionless sex. Afterward, Evan got up and went into the living room to finish watching the baseball game. Then he fell asleep on the couch, like he had so many other nights after we had lost the baby. I cried myself to sleep and vowed I would never talk to Jonathan about any of my problems again. If only I had listened to my internal pledge that night. A few months later, Evan moved out. Jonathan became my shoulder to cry on and eventually a filler of the physical void that was missing in my life. Now as I sat across from him, a lot stronger and a lot less naïve than I was before, I felt so differently. What I once perceived as charm, I now viewed as arrogance.
“So, Norm told me you were on a temporary hiatus,” Jonathan started, leaning back in his chair and assessing me, causing the hairs on my arms to stand at attention.
“It’s not temporary. He knows that.”
“Well, I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“It doesn’t,” I snapped back quickly, not wanting him to think he held any more power over my life. “It has to do with me.”
He nodded, still seeming unsure of my response. “I just wish you didn’t hate me so much.”
I concentrated on the coffee in my cup as I swirled the wooden stirrer round and round. “I don’t hate you,” I said, focusing my attention back to him. “I hate what we did. I hate that I let it define who I was for so long, and I hate that I hurt someone I cared about so much because of it. But I don’t hate you—you were just one of the many cracks in my life.”
He creased his forehead. “I don’t understand.”
I gazed at him long and hard, finally fearless of the shame the man staring back at me conjured up inside of me. He held no control over me, and he never had. I stood up and pushed my chair in as he sat there waiting for an explanation. “And I wouldn’t have expected you to. Goodbye, Jonathan.” I walked out with my head held high, enveloped in a sense of closure to a chapter of my life that had been hanging in the balance for far too long.
I arrived home a little after six. Little did I know but my little meeting with Jonathan had saved me from meeting up with any of the bigwigs from work when I went to collect my things. Pria informed me they had just left for an afternoon golf outing, and I couldn’t have been more relieved. I
