Page 24 of Sassy & Sixty
Now, another quick call to make – to Mike. She didn’t want to lie to him or shield anything from him. She wanted to tell him that she was meeting up with her ex-husband.
THE EX
The next morning dawned bright and clear, a stark contrast to the emotional turbulence of the previous day. Rosie stood in front of her wardrobe, once again facing the eternal question: what does one wear to meet their estranged husband?
After much deliberation, she settled on a simple blue dress that Derek had always liked, paired with a cardigan that was new – a small symbol of the changes in her life. But as she studied her reflection, she couldn't help but wonder if she was trying too hard to recapture something that had long since passed.
As she was applying the last touches to her makeup, her phone buzzed with a flurry of messages from the Sensational Sixties Squad group chat:
Catherine: "Remember, you're strong and beautiful. Don't let him make you feel otherwise."
Julie: "Channel your inner goddess. You've got this!"
Lisa: "Stay true to yourself. We're here if you need us."
Trisha: "If he tries any funny business, I know people who know people. Just saying."
Emma: "Give him hell, Red!"
Rosie chuckled, shaking her head. She was about to reply when another message popped up, this time from Mike: "Hope you have a good day. Thinking of you."
Her stomach did a little flip at Mike's words. Simple, sweet, and utterly confusing given her impending lunch with Derek. Rosie sighed, pocketing her phone. One crisis at a time.
The walk to the restaurant felt both interminable and far too short. With each step, Rosie's mind raced with potential scenarios. What if Derek had changed? What if he hadn't? What if she had changed too much?
As she approached Chez Katerina, she spotted Derek through the window. He was already seated, nervously adjusting his tie. The sight was so familiar, yet somehow foreign - like looking at an old photograph of a place you once knew well but had almost forgotten.
Taking a deep breath, Rosie pushed open the door. The maître d' looked up, his eyebrow raised in polite inquiry.
"I'm meeting someone," Rosie said, gesturing towards Derek. "My... my husband."
The word felt strange on her tongue. Ex-husband? Estranged husband? What were they to each other now?
As she approached the table, Derek stood, a tentative smile on his face. "Rosie," he said, his voice warm. "You look lovely."
"Thank you," Rosie replied, suddenly feeling shy. "You look well too."
An awkward moment passed as they both hesitated, unsure whether to hug, shake hands, or simply sit.
Derek pulled out her chair, a gesture so reminiscent of their early dating days that Rosie felt a pang of... was it nostalgia? Or something else?
As they settled into their seats, Derek noticed the changes in Rosie. There was a sparkle in her eye that he hadn't seen in years, a confidence in the way she carried herself.
"You look... different," he said, immediately regretting how it sounded. "I mean, you look wonderful. Happy."
Rosie smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her face. "I am happy, Derek. I've discovered a lot about myself these past few months."
Derek nodded, feeling a mix of admiration and regret. "I've heard about your new friends. The, uh, Sensational Sixties Squad, is it? Mary told me about them. They sound like good fun."
Rosie laughed, the sound both familiar and somehow new to Derek's ears. "Oh yes, they're quite a group. They've shown me that life doesn't end at sixty. It's only just beginning."
As Rosie launched into a story about their latest adventure, Derek found himself captivated. This was a side of Rosie he'd never seen – or perhaps, he realised with a pang, a side he'd never taken the time to see. He'd been so caught up in his own midlife crisis that he'd missed the amazing woman Rosie had always had the potential to be.
"I'm glad," he said softly when she finished, "that you've found this new life. And I... I hope there might be room in it for me."
Rosie smiled at Derek and took a moment to really look at her estranged husband. He had aged, of course - they both had. But there was something else, a vulnerability in his eyes that she wasn't used to seeing.
"So," Rosie began, fiddling with her menu, "how have you been?"
