I’m lost in thought about my cabin neighbours potentially being our suspects and what a possible fix might be – do we pull Hamilton aside and give him tips about being courteous when sharing a small cabin? No! Not only is it overstepping, but he’d instantly figure out Georgiana has been talking about him behind his back, which might make things worse.
I’m so distracted that I almost forget about Jasper and our dance ‘lessons’ last night but when I see the others around the table with a cheeky gleam in their eyes, I know it’s probably going to come up in conversation. Dammit.
‘There she is!’ Karen gets up to give me a hug and CJ follows suit. ‘How’s the head?’
‘Thumping. And you?’
She gives me an apologetic smile. ‘Clear as a bell. I drank the alcohol-free stuff.’
Huh. Note to self: be like Karen. ‘Clever.’
Princess and Barry are deep in conversation but when she spots me, she jumps up. ‘Darling! You look beautiful. Doesn’t she, Jasper?’
There he is, the man of the hour, sitting there with a plate of fruit, looking hotter than any man has a right to. ‘Yes, beautiful,’ he agrees, for the sake of politeness, I’m sure.
Before the conversation can drift back to – gulp – my dancing prowess or lack thereof, I motion for the Unlucky in Love Travel Club to come closer, and I spill the beans on what I’ve just learned about Georgiana and Hamilton. And, yes, I hope it’s enough to distract them from chatting about my dance shenanigans with Jasper.
‘Ooh.’ Princess’s eyes go wide. ‘That’s interesting. Barry what’s your take?’
Barry pats his mouth with a napkin. ‘Trouble in paradise.’
CJ pours coffee from the jug and slides it over to me, and I send her a grateful smile. I take a sip and I swear I hear angels sing – maybe the remedy for my godawful hangover is caffeine and lots of it. ‘I don’t know…’ CJ’s mouth twists. ‘Those kinds of squabbles are normal when you travel, aren’t they? My ex-husband used to do all those things too, and yes, I wanted to strangle him from time to time, but it didn’t make me want to divorce him or anything.’
‘Why did you divorce him?’ Princess asks, dropping the question with all the grace of a sledgehammer.
The sporty forty-something sighs. ‘Our love story just ended because we grew apart. Sad but true. We were high-school sweethearts who married young, had a family, raised our boys in blissful harmony, or so I thought. But then this insidious thing crept into our relationship when we weren’t looking – complacency.’
There are knowing nods around the table.
‘Life flashed forward, so fast, like it does when you’re running a business together, sports goods stores in case you’re wondering, and raising energetic boys that you have to ferry to school and hockey practice. Life was a series of Post-it notes left on the counter for each other, as caring for the kids and work life consumed us. I woke up one day, and it just hit me – we’d become roommates. Best friends, yes, but the passion, the sizzle, had gone. Replaced by ennui.’
Karen gives CJ’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘Same thing happened to my parents.’
‘Yeah, it’s common. When I had a chat to my husband that night, he broke down and told me he’d been feeling the same, maybe even for longer, but he didn’t have the courage to broach it with me. He’d even had a small flirtation with someone who’d worked for us, but hadn’t acted on it.’
My heart breaks for CJ, having been lost in the mire of her life, trying to keep her head above water, that the love they shared suffered because of it.
‘Did you try couple’s counselling?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, we tried it but it only lengthened the end of our marriage. We both felt like staying together wasn’t the best option for us or the kids. They don’t want to see blank-faced parents going through the motions. The spark had died, and nothing we tried would reignite it. We had the most amicable divorce ever and now we split time with the boys fifty-fifty and still run the businesses together. It works for us. He’s moved on with a lovely woman who treats my kids well, and that’s all I care about.’
‘Oh man, who else was hoping this would end differently?’ I blurt without thinking.
Jasper raises a hand. ‘Me. I hoped some time apart would show them that they were perfect for each other all along.’
CJ laughs. ‘That’s the thing – wewereperfect for each other. For that season in our lives. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband, a better father to my kids, but that season ended. And I count myself lucky for it. Who gets the fairytale and then a platonic friend for life? It worked out exactly how it was meant to.’
CJ’s reasoning hits me hard. I get it. It’s presumed we’ll behave the way society expects us to. Marriage, house, babies, the 9–5 of work. Staying put, staying together, even if the spark has gone. They could have stayed in the marriage, followed the path of least resistance, but they chose to end it at the right time so that they could remain friends and be the best parents for their boys. They didn’t wait until that complacency turned to apathy, or worse, became acrimonious. Maybe CJ’s right. Love comes in seasons. Love comes in different packages. Isn’t it enough to have loved and been loved? Maybe it’s not always forever.
It’s like me, close to forty and saying yes to Miles’s marriage proposal because after returning home I wondered if perhaps I’d got it all wrong – and life was meant to be lived the regular way. Maybe I should yearn to raise babies alongside Freya. My husband and I could buy a house, host dinner parties for our friends. Settle into domestic harmony.
When he asked for my hand in marriage, it felt a bit like a second chance. Like maybe I hadn’t missed that window of time for marriage and babies if I wanted it. Despite those niggling doubts, I went all in, because what if it was my only chance? Marriage was never on my radar, but part of me figured I’d regret not following the crowd, and I loved Miles, so why not risk saying yes to becoming a wife at the very least?
Now I wonder, after hearing CJ’s story am I the one who made the mistake, by accepting a proposal and agreeing to a life that doesn’t really suit me. A life that might seem perfect from the outside, like when I look at how happy Freya and her family are, but that was nevermydream. Maybe I’m set to roam alone? And that’s OK.
‘I love that you recognised what you needed, even if making that choice came at a cost.’ There’s no question it would have been hard for them. Telling their children. Their friends. Redesigning how life would look for them all.
‘The only sad part of it is that I haven’t found the next love of my life. Without love, life is a little less sparkly. But I know he’s out there, it’s just a matter of finding him.’
