Paul looks much the same as he did 8 years ago when he’d sat across from me and casually explained that he didn’t want to take part in his son’s life anymore. That it really would be best for everyone if he made a clean break. No visitation. No monthly support checks. Nothing. I remember feeling like I was drowning, like the air around me was suddenly too thick for me to breathe and I would suffocate. The enormity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks, and I knew I was on the verge of a panic attack. How was I supposed to take care of Liam all alone? What was I going to do? How would I make ends meet? Then Liam had started crying in his car seat next to me and I turned to focus on him, ignoring the way Paul suddenly announced his need to leave. He slid the paperwork across the table while I worked on getting Liam unstrapped from the seat. I glanced up at Paul once before he left. I tried to see if there was any hint of remorse in his eyes, but there was nothing but cold indifference and an impatience to leave.
“I’m so glad you came tonight,” Paul says, snapping me out of my memories. He’s still handsome as ever and he’s still got a great smile. It was that smile that had first drawn me to him back in college. I can see a few more lines around his eyes but they don’t detract from his good looks. He looks polished and elegant and perfectly put-together.
I nod politely. “You said you wanted to talk?”
Paul nods. “Right. I’m not sure exactly how to go about this.” He looks suddenly nervous. I feel my hands grow clammy. If he says he wants to be in Liam’s life again, I don’t know how I’ll react.
Paul takes a deep breath and leans across the table toward me.
“How are you Hannah? How are you really?”
I’m slightly confused by this change of subject, but I give him a small smile. “I’m good,” I say. “Things are great.”
Paul doesn’t seem satisfied by my answer though. “Are you sure? You can be honest with me. I know things must have been difficult for you after I ended things the way I did.”
I blink, surprised that he would bring up our past so casually. My brain cycles through several possible replies before settling on polite indifference.
“It was difficult,” I agree. “For a time. But I managed to get by just fine. I have a lot of friends who stood by me. Helped me get on my feet. It took a little while, but things are going great for me now and have been for several years. I have a great job. Liam is happy and doing well. I really couldn’t be happier these days.”
Though he’s the main reason for my recent happiness, I decide not to mention Finn right now. My relationship is none of Paul’s business. If he’s offended by my roundabout reminder of the fact that he didn’t stand by me, he doesn’t show it. He merely nods, thoughtful. This is becoming one of the most awkward dinner conversations I’ve ever been a part of.
“Good,” he says. “I really am glad for that. Lately, I find myself thinking about the past a lot and wondering if maybe I should have made different choices. Done things differently. If you and I hadn’t run off to get married, you wouldn’t have dropped out of college to follow me. You might have ended up with a completely different life.”
I smile. “I appreciate the concern, but I love my life just the way it is. It hasn’t always been easy, but I’m exactly where I want to be. It took me a little longer, but I eventually finished college and got my degree. I worked my way up from a housekeeper to the general manager of the B&B where I work. If you invited me to dinner tonight out of guilt over the past, you can let that go. I’m fine. Liam is fine. We’re happy.”
Paul nods again, not looking at me. The server places a basket of bread on the table between us and tells us our salads will be out shortly. Paul nods and thanks the woman and she turns to go.
“Paul,” I say. “Why did really you call me? What were you hoping to get out of tonight?”
He sighs and gives me a rueful smile. “You always did like to get to the point.”
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, but I smile anyway.
“I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress at work,” he says. “And at home too, if I’m being honest.”
I wonder if his marriage is on the rocks. Is that why he called me? Is he hoping to rekindle things after all these years? Surely not.
“I think part of me wanted some closure.”
I blink. Did I hear him correctly? “Closure? Seriously?”
He nods.
My eyes narrow and I lean forward across the table. “Paul, you left me without warning 2 months after our child was born. You asked for a divorce and relinquished your parental rights. You can’t really get much more closure than that.”
He has the decency to look sheepish at the reminder, but it strikes me that he still doesn’t look remorseful.
“I’m sorry for the way things ended between us,” he says. “I never wanted to hurt you. I think we were both just too young and too impetuous. We jumped in without considering the consequences.”
As I sit across from Paul and watch him discuss all the mistakes he thinks were made in our past, I wonder if I should feel something toward him. Anger? Hatred? Annoyance? But it surprises me to realize that I don’t have any strong emotions about him at all. Mostly, I feel sorry for
