I wasn’t ashamed ofwhat we’d done, but I was getting the impression that maybe she was.
“So, um, your in-lawsweren’t nearly as bad as you said they were,” she hurried into another awkwardconversation.
I tightened my grip onthe wheel. “Tess …”
“Maybe they had achange of heart,” she offered, ignoring me. “I can’t imagine pushing yourdaughter and grandkids away, simply because you don’t like what your son-in-lawchooses to do for a living. Maybe they regret it.”
“Probably,” I mutteredand chewed my bottom lip. “But, Tess, they’re—”
“And I can’t believethey gave you that piano. I mean, it’s a beautiful gift, but you’d think ifthey wanted to offer an olive branch, they could’ve done it in a, uh, lessexpensive way. Hell, if I ever get married, I hope I have in-laws like that.”
I clenched my jaw andhuffed my frustration through flared nostrils. “Tess, they’re not my in-lawsanymore. I’m notmarriedanymore.” Idon’t know why I said that, why I thought that’s what was bothering her, or whyI suspected that she needed to hear it from me, but there it was.
And then she said, “Butyou’re still wearing your ring.”
Lifting my hand fromthe wheel, I saw it. Reflecting the light from the passingstreetlamps. Glinting, darkening, glinting again. It’d been days, weeks maybe,since I last paid attention to it. Like I’d gotten happy and the ring had beenforgotten. Unseen.
My brows drew together,as I stole glances from the road to eyeball that gold band around my finger,suddenly heavy and cumbersome. “Is that what bothers you?”
Her shame released withher deep exhale. “It’s not just that, but, it’s part of it.” She raised a handand rubbed her fingers against her temple. “I don’t … I don’t expect …” Anotherdeep breath escaped her lips and she pinched her eyes shut. “I don’t expectanything, Jon. I don’t expect you to let go of anything for me, or for whateverthis is between us, and I told you I never want you to feel like you can’t talkabout things with me, because you can, always. But … I also can’t help thatwhen I see that ring, Ifeellikeyou’re married, and that feels really wrong.”
I nodded slowly,scrubbing my hand over my mouth. “You know, a couple of months ago, when youtold me that moving on wasn’t letting go …”
Tess shook her head.“Jon, I’m not asking anything from you—”
“No,” I interjectedfirmly. “I know you’re not. I’m not upset with you or anything. I just neverthought about it like that. I’ve never thought about this from yourperspective.”
God, what a theme tofollow throughout my entire life—selfishness.I felt like a jerk all the way back to the apartment. I held onto the shame asTess helped me to carry the girls into bed, while I tucked them in and when Iwhispered, “I love you, ladies. Goodnight.” Then, when we were alone once againin the kitchen, I let it go.
“I’m sorry,” I toldher.
She scoffed incredulously.“Why areyouapologizing tome?”
“Because I neverconsidered how all of this might make someone else feel. I’m sorry for draggingyou into it.”
Tess nodded solemnly. “Yeah,well, I never considered I’d feel like this, so …” She shrugged, a somber smiletugging at her lips.
I wanted to ask her tostay, to remind me how it was to sleep with someone and wake with them in myarms. But she didn’t give me the opportunity as she came to me and laid herpalms against my chest. Her heels gave her a few extra inches and brought thetop of her head to the bottom of my chin, and standing on her toes, she presseda gentle kiss to my lips. I didn’t move to push it deeper, despite my naggingneed to taste her again. This kiss wasn’t a prelude; it was a goodnight.
“I’ll see youtomorrow,” she whispered, her breath warm against my mouth and prickled skin.
My hand lifted to hercheek, fingertips pushing gently into her hair. I kissed her again and sighedwith relief when I felt her smile beneath my touch. Then, I stepped away andoffered her a smile.
“Goodnight, Tess.”
***
I sat on my bed, shirt open and pantsundone, and stared at the ring on my finger. I told myself that I should onlydo what I felt comfortable doing, that the grieving process—themoving onprocess—was first and foremostabout whatIwas ready for. I shouldn’tbe pressured into taking steps I wasn’t prepared to take, but when I askedmyself if this was what I wanted, I couldn’t find any desire to say no.
I had said it to Tessearlier, but now, I said it to myself.
I no longer feltmarried.
The ring was now areminder of everything I’d once had, and I twisted it around my finger, once,then twice, then I pulled it off.
I expected my eyes towater. I expected the rise of emotion to block my throat and make me cough. Butwhat I hadn’t expected was the gasp that rushed through my lips, as though I’dbeen held prisoner by the band of gold, and now I was free of my shackles.
“Wow,” I muttered,looking at my bare finger. “Feels so weird.”
