“Own it,” she replied with a grin.
Then, with mock seriousness, she added, “Hi, my name is Colleen, and I’m bad in bed.”
“Hi, Colleen,” I said, trying not to laugh.
As we sat together, I realized how much we had in common. Despite all the bad things life throws at us, sometimes it surprises you with something good. You just have to be open to it.
“How about this?” I suggested. “Let’s forget proving our exes wrong. Let’s go out again. No pressure, no expectations, just have fun and get to know each other.”
She smiled brightly. “I like that. No pressure, just fun.”
Then she added with a playful smirk, “And if we happen to sleep together, so be it.”
I nearly fell out of my chair laughing, but her words sparked something in me. I felt more relaxed and connected to her.
“Yeah, if it happens, it happens,” I joked, crossing my fingers.
We clinked our cups in a toast, unaware that someone familiar was watching us. By the time I noticed, she had already left. I wouldn’t learn about this until weeks later.
“Why does Paige make everything so difficult?” I thought as I stood in her bedroom doorway, trying not to lose my cool.
Every time I tried to move forward, another obstacle appeared. She was dragging her feet on signing the divorce papers, and it was frustrating. We’d talked about it numerous times, but she always brushed it off like it didn’t matter. Her indifferent attitude made me angry.
I was fed up with being tied to her. Even when I tried to move on, her words haunted me. I wanted her out of my life, but as always, it had to happen on her terms.
“Paige, what’s the problem?” I asked impatiently as she sat in bed, putting on lotion like I wasn’t even there.
She had the nerve to look smug in new lingerie that her boyfriend probably bought.
“You can’t expect me to sign papers without a lawyer looking them over,” she said condescendingly.
“They’ve been on your dresser for a month. How can my lawyer review them if I don’t have them?”
She looked exasperated. “I haven’t found a lawyer yet, Artie. When I do, I’ll give them to him. Now, calm down. You’ll wake the kids. Sit down, relax. You look stressed,” she said, patting the bed.
I counted to five, trying not to explode. “What do you mean you haven’t found a lawyer yet?”
She looked surprised by my tone. “I wasn’t expecting you to just drop the papers on me. I thought we’d talk about it first.”
“I’m pretty sure we covered everything when you called me a fat, boring loser who’s bad in bed.”
“Artie,” she whined, gearing up for another round of the same old argument.