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564words2026-01-26 09:12

In the third year of our marriage,I broached the subject of having a child with Paul Bennett.
This time,instead of making excuses to put it off,he handed me divorce papers.
“I’m sorry,I don’t think marriage is for me.”

A month later,he and his childhood friend,Sarah Quinn,set off on an RV trip across the U.S.
I followed Sarah’s social media account,watching their travel vlogs every evening with having dinner.
When Paul grew tired of wandering and came back to hoping to reconcile,I said,“Sorry,but you’re too late.I got remarried two hours ago.”
…
“Hi everyone,welcome to today’s travel diary.”
“Yep,Paul’s not here again.He says he’s almost sorted out his family stuff and will be back in a maximum of two days…”

“Sarah,sorry I’m late.”
Paul arrived,sitting across from me.
I smiled.“No problem.”
His mom,Mrs.Carter,my high school teacher,had fallen at home and called me for help.

I stayed with her at the hospital until Paul returned.
Yesterday,she was discharged,and he wanted to thank me.
We originally planned to have dinner at home,but Mrs.Carter insisted we go to a restaurant.She still hoped that we’d get back together.
We got divorced in the early summer.Now,Seattle had seen its first snow.Paul and Sarah had driven all the way from Alaska to Florida.
I casually asked about the trip,and his face lit up,talking for twenty minutes.
He omitted his travel companion.
“Sorry,I rambled on,”he stopped.
“No,it’s interesting.Sounds like you made the right choice.”
Guilt crossed his face.“I’m sorry,Emma.I held you back.You deserve someone better.”
Words like that,said after the fact,still have the power to sting.
Mrs.Carter was my high school teacher.When my parents passed away one after another,she supported me like a mother,helping me through that difficult time.
In college,I would visit her during breaks,met Paul a few times.
The sight of him, wearing an apron and cooking with his back to me, reminded me of a photo my mother had taken of my father.
I secretly took photos.Mrs.Carter noticed but just smiled.
After graduating,I returned to our school as a teacher,the same year she retired.With her in matchmaking,Paul and I got together fast.
Paul seemed so eager at the time; I thought he really liked me.
He was a good husband,and I naively believed he’d also be a good father.
Being capable of something is one thing; truly wanting it is another entirely.
Clearly,he craved a free,unbound life.
With someone you love,any where’s a view.With someone you don’t,waking up feels like a cage.
I drove him to Mrs.Carter’s.
In the car,he sneaked peeks at Sarah’s livestream,chuckling.
My earbuds played it too—she was recounting how young Paul scared her with a fake snake,so she put a real worm in his water bottle.
On their social media,they presented themselves as childhood sweethearts,first loves who had reunited after going through various trials,escaping the city for a spontaneous adventure.
He’s mature and gentle,she’s carefree and bold.They match,easy to root for.
“He’s probably not even watching the chat right now.”
“I’m eating beef jerky—this brand,tasty,not an ad.Screenshot and search it…”
We arrived.
Paul thanked me and told me to drive safely.
“I’m leaving tomorrow and will be back for Christmas.My mom might need your help again…”
I cut him off.“Don’t say that.I don’t like it.”
“I’m doing it for Mrs. Carter, not you.I knew her long before I knew you.There’s no need to thank me, and I don’t see it as a burden.”
“Sorry,”he apologized.