He considered his words carefully, tilting his head to one side. “It’s so important, living your authentic life,” he said. “Sometimes, it can take years to even find your truth, you know? People are so burdened by society’s expectations and dated norms.”
“Mm,” I said, taking another bite of food. “I get it.” I didn’t, but I liked that he was talking with such animation.
“We all need a continued sense of purpose and passion. Joy, even. How many times this week have you felt joy, Lillie?”
“Oh. Um . . . I don’t know. I feel joy right now, being here with you, eating this good food.” I smiled.
His face showed his disappointment. I wasn’t sure why, but it was the wrong answer.
When the waitress came to ask if we wanted dessert, Brad said no. “I’ll have the coconut cake,” I said, because speaking of joy . . . “We’ll split it,” I added, since we always did. One of our marital habits—Brad always pretended he didn’t want dessert, then shared mine. Denial.
“No, no. All for you,” Brad said, and for a second, I could’ve sworn he glanced at my midsection. He himself was lean. I was not.
Brad was nursing a second glass of malbec. That was funny . . . I’d never seen him order red wine, not even with steak. He said it gave him headaches, but here he was, sniffing it like he was a bloodhound, swirling it, savoring it. Before I said something snarky, I decided this was the moment.
“Honey, I have something to tell you,” I said. I took a breath and tried to get into the romantic mood. The candlelight made Brad look even more handsome. His blond hair, still fairly full, that WASPy, almost delicate bone structure. His amazing cerulean eyes. He looked younger, the gift of candlelight. I hoped I looked equally beautiful. “It’s pretty exciting.”
“Really? I have something to tell you, too,” he said. “Also exciting. But go ahead.”
I paused for dramatic effect. “We’re going to Europe! I booked us a trip!”
Brad’s face didn’t change. He didn’t smile. He barely blinked.
“Oh,” he said. “Uh . . . when?”
“October seventeenth. Venice, then a train ride up into the Alps for a few days, and then . . . wait for it . . . Paris! Surprise!”
Brad didn’t say anything.
“Honey?” I asked.
“Yes. Um . . . well.”
Not the reaction I was hoping for. Brad loved traveling. “Aren’t you excited?” I asked. “You don’t seem excited.”
He drained his wine. “Actually, Lillie, I . . . uh . . . I was thinking it’s time we . . . divorced.”
“Here’s your coconut cake,” said the waitress, a pretty girl with dark hair. “Two forks, just in case.”
“Thank you!” I said. “Dig in, honey, before I lay waste to this whole thing.”
“This is hard for me,” he said. “It wasn’t an easy decision, but I’m sure.”
“About what?” God. The cake melted in your mouth. Melted.
“Did you hear me? What I just said?”
“Did you hear me? We’re going to Europe!”
He looked away sharply. “No. We’re not. I want a divorce, Lillie. That’s why I took you here. To discuss our future at this natural split in the path.”
I snorted. “Oh, please. We’re not getting divorced.” God, this cake was so good.
“I’m serious. Please listen and don’t infantilize me, Lillie.”
“Brad. Honey. Is this because Dylan’s graduating? It’s normal to feel blue. But we’re happy. Not like everyone else.” There had been a rash of divorces among our crowd lately, and suddenly my skin felt a little too tight. “We’ve been talking about how fun being empty nesters will be.” Hadn’t we? No, we had. Just not recently.
“I’ve met someone.”
“You know, this trip is going to be perfect,” I said. “Change of scenery, new places, new food, different languages all around us. You can practice your French! Our son is going to college in Montana, and we’ve both been melancholy. I’ve looked at so many pictures of Venice, I already feel better.”
Wait . . . what was that he’d just said? It wasn’t about Europe. I felt a flush starting in my chest, creeping up my neck.
I took a sip of water. Glanced around the restaurant. There was our pretty waitress, listing off the specials at another table. A gorgeous young couple had just walked in, holding hands. Newlyweds, I thought, judging by the way they gazed at each other. Yep. He’d just picked up her hand and kissed the ring finger, where a gold band gleamed. Sweet.