Since then, she’d only rarely visited Sunset Beach, as it no longer felt like home. Like many of the small towns dotting the coast, it had changed with the times. The pontoon bridge had been replaced with something more modern, larger homes were now the norm, and Clancy’s was gone as well, the old restaurant limping along until a year or two after the century began. Her sister Robin had been the one to tell her about the restaurant’s closing; on a trip to Myrtle Beach ten years ago she and her husband had made a detour to the familial island, because she, too, had been curious about the changes time had wrought.
These days, Hope preferred Carolina Beach, an island a little ways to the north, and closer to Wilmington. She’d first visited it upon her counselor’s suggestion in December 2005, when the divorce proceedings with Josh were at their worst. Josh had made plans to bring Jacob and Rachel out west for a week during winter break. The kids were young teenagers, moody in general, and the implosion of their parents’ marriage had compounded the stress they were feeling. While Hope had recognized that the vacation might be a beneficial distraction for the kids, her counselor pointed out that spending the holidays at home alone wouldn’t be good for her own mental state. She had suggested Carolina Beach to Hope; in the winter, she’d said, the island was low-key and relaxing.
Hope had booked a place sight unseen, and the little cottage at the beach had turned out to be exactly what she’d needed. It was there where Hope had begun the process of healing; where she’d gathered the perspective she needed to enter the next phase of her life.
She had known she wouldn’t reconcile with Josh. She had cried over him for years, and while his last affair had been the deal breaker, the first one was still the most painful to remember. At the time, the kids weren’t yet in school and their needs were constant; meanwhile her father had recently taken a turn for the worse. When Hope learned of the affair, Josh apologized and promised to end it. However, he remained in contact with the woman even as Hope’s father got sicker and sicker. She felt as though she was on the verge of panic attacks for months, and it was the first time she’d considered ending the marriage. Instead, overwhelmed at the prospect of upheaval and afraid of the devastating effect divorce could have on her kids, she stuck it out and did her best to forgive. But other affairs followed. There were more tears and too much arguing, and by the time she finally told Josh that she wanted a divorce, they’d been sleeping in separate bedrooms for nearly a year. The day he moved out, he told her she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
Despite her best intentions, bitterness and rancor surfaced in the divorce. She was shocked at the rage and sadness she felt, and Josh was equally angry and defensive. While the custody arrangements had been fairly straightforward, the financial wrangling had been a nightmare. Hope had stayed at home when the kids were young and it wasn’t until they were both in school that she went back to work, but no longer as a trauma nurse. Instead, she’d worked part-time with a family practice group so she could be home when the kids finished at school. While the hours were easier, the pay was less, and Josh’s attorney argued strenuously that since she had the skills necessary to increase her salary, any alimony should be drastically reduced. Nor, like so many men, did Josh believe in an equal property division. By that point, Josh and Hope were communicating primarily through their lawyers.
She had felt battered by emotion—feelings of failure, loss, anger, resolve, and fear—but as she walked the beach during that Christmas break, she worried mainly about the kids. She wanted to be the best mother she could be, but her counselor had continually reminded her that if she didn’t take care of herself first, she wouldn’t be able to provide the kids with the solid support they needed.
Deep down, she knew her counselor was right, but the idea felt almost blasphemous. She’d been a mother so long that she wasn’t even sure who she really was anymore. While at Carolina Beach, though, she had gradually accepted the notion that her emotional health was as important as the children’s. Not more important, but not less important, either.
She also understood how slippery the slope might be if she didn’t heed her counselor’s advice. She’d seen women lose or gain substantial weight while going through a divorce; she’d heard them talking about Friday and Saturday nights at the bars and admitting to one-night stands with strangers, men they barely remembered. Some remarried quickly, and it was almost always a mistake. Even those who hadn’t gone wild often developed self-destructive habits. Hope had seen divorced friends increase the two glasses of wine on the weekend to three or four glasses multiple times during the week. One of those women had come right out and said that drinking was the only way she’d survived her divorce.
Hope didn’t want to fall into the same trap, and her time at the beach was clarifying. After returning to Raleigh, she’d joined a gym and started taking spin classes. She’d added yoga to her routine, prepared healthy meals for herself and the kids, and, even on nights she couldn’t sleep, forced herself to stay in bed, breathing deeply, trying to discipline her mind. She’d learned to meditate, and put a renewed emphasis on rekindling friendships where contact had lapsed in recent years.
She had also made a vow to never say anything bad about Josh, which hadn’t been easy but had probably laid the groundwork for the relationship they had now. These days, most of her friends couldn’t understand why she still made time for him in her life, considering all the heartache he’d caused her. The reasons were multifaceted, but also her secret. When asked, she would simply tell them that as terrible a husband as he’d been, he’d always been a good father. Josh had spent a lot of time with the kids when they were young, attending extracurriculars and coaching their youth teams, and he’d spent his weekends with the family instead of with friends. The latter was something she’d insisted upon before agreeing to marry him.
She hadn’t, however, accepted Josh’s marriage proposal right away. Let’s see how things go for a while, she’d told him. As he left, he’d paused in the doorway.
“There’s something different about you,” he’d said to her.
“You’re right,” she’d said. “I am different.”
Eight weeks passed before she finally accepted his proposal, and unlike all her friends, she insisted on a simple wedding a couple of months after that, with only close friends and family in attendance. The reception dinner was potluck, one of her brothers-in-law manned the camera, and the guests finished out the evening dancing at a local nightclub. The short engagement and low-key wedding surprised Josh. He couldn’t fathom why she didn’t want the kind of wedding that all of her friends had insisted upon. She told him she didn’t want to waste the money, but in truth, she suspected she was already pregnant. It turned out she was—with Jacob—and for an instant, she thought perhaps that it might be Tru’s, but that was impossible. The timing wasn’t right, nor could Tru father a child, but in that moment, she understood that she had no desire to smile through the faux romance of a fairy-tale wedding. By then, after all, she understood the nature of romance, and knew it had little to do with trying to create a fantasy. Real romance was spontaneous, unpredictable, and could be as simple as listening to a man read a love letter found in a lonely mailbox on a stormy September afternoon.