I thought we were here because we couldn’t stand each other? I thought that was the whole point of it?
So why did it feel like my heart had been shredded? Why couldn’t I breathe? This wasn’t like before when the sorrow of our failed marriage had weighed so heavily on me. This new pain pressed me into the earth… threatened to bury me alive.
This was worse somehow. This felt like I would never be able to catch my breath again. This felt like endless drowning and an emptiness so vast I would be forever lost in it.
Somehow I had stopped worrying about how much we’d hurt each other in the past and started worrying about how much we would hurt without each other in the future.
A few months ago, I couldn’t imagine living my life in the same pattern of crazy we had been stuck in. And now I couldn’t imagine my life without this man in it.
What was I doing?
Was I making the biggest mistake of my life?
Yes.
Yes.
I had asked myself that question countless times over the last several months, but I finally had an answer.
Yes.
A loud, resounding yes.
This was the biggest mistake of my life.
My lips were too dry. My mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton balls. My throat was prickly and sore. But I couldn’t drink enough water.
I couldn’t quench this thirst.
My hands trembled badly, but there was nothing to calm my nerves.
I finally realized that I wanted to fight for my marriage and it was too late. I had finally realized that this man was everything to me. Even with his faults and flawed humanity. Even with our rocky history and hurtful past. This man, my husband, was my life. He was everything to me. He was my past and present. He was my future. He was my heart. My very soul.
But we had already announced our divorce to every person we knew.
He had moved out.
He’d gotten a new life.
We’d hired lawyers.
We were smack dab in the middle of mediation.
I had to go through with this. I had already made the decision. I just had to buck up and go through with it.
These were my consequences to pay. I had made this bed, now I needed to lay in it.
Forever.
Forever and ever and ever, amen.
Oh, damn.
Oh, shit.
Shit shit shit.
“She can have it all.” I heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. Nick kept talking. “The house, the dog. Whatever she wants, she can have it.”
“Nick,” his lawyer spit out. “I would recommend rethinking your position-”
“I don’t want it,” he growled. “I don’t want any of it.”
Tears filled my eyes. “But I do.”
I made a new decision. I decided it didn’t matter what we had done or who knew about the divorce or what anybody else in the entire world thought.
I could not let this man go.
I could not.
“Yeah, we know,” Ryan spit out rather unprofessionally. “That’s why you’re getting it.”
I jerked my chin and a lone tear escaped, rolling down my cheek. “No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t just want the house and the dog or the things. I want everything, Nick. I want… I want you.”
Looking at him across the table, I realized something so vitally important that it knocked every last breath out of me. I didn’t want a divorce because I didn’t love him anymore. I had never stopped loving him. Against all reason, against every valid argument I’d made against him and our marriage… I loved him.
His entire body reacted with my words. He sat back in his chair with a swift pull of motion. His head cocked back and his blue eyes flashed with something strong and piercing. “What?”
“I surrender,” I whispered raggedly. Whatever courage I had left, I gathered quickly to hold his furious glare.
“Kate.” His whisper was agonized, full of conflict and turmoil.
I struggled to swallow and smooth out my trembling voice. It didn’t help. “I surrender, Nick. To this.” I waved my hand between us. “To us. To you.”