She had stayed because she didn't know what would happen if she left. That distinction changed how I remembered the last few months. Every dinner, every ordinary conversation, every time she had kissed me good night. I had thought we were living the same life. Apparently, we weren't.
The house went on the market the following week. A real estate agent came by, took photographs, and put up the listing. Seeing the sign outside our home was strange. It made the divorce feel physical, something anyone driving past could see. Janice came by once to collect some clothes.
She stood in the empty living room. This is really happening. Yes. She looked around. Do you hate me?
No. Not even a little. I was angry. And now, now I just want it finished. She nodded slowly.
I don't deserve another chance, do I? I didn't answer because that wasn't a question I wanted to debate. She picked up her bag. At the door, she stopped. "Justin? " "Yeah.
My birthday is next month. " I looked at her. "I know. " She gave a small sad smile. "I guess you won't be there. " "No," she nodded. Then she left. I closed the door behind her.
For the first time, I didn't feel like I was losing something. I felt like I was finally accepting what had already been lost. The house sold 3 weeks later. The closing date was set for a Friday morning, and Aaron had already handled most of the paperwork. Janice and I met at the title office to sign the final documents.
She looked different, not dramatically, just tired. She sat across from me while the clerk explained where we needed to sign. Neither of us said much. When it was over, we walked outside together. Janice stopped beside her car.
So, that's it? Almost? She nodded. I kept thinking you'd change your mind. I told you I wouldn't.
I know. She looked at me for several seconds. Can I ask you something? Sure. Was there ever a moment when you wanted to forgive me?
I thought about it. Yes. Her eyes lifted. When? The night you called me.
She looked surprised. You did? For about 30 seconds. What changed? You told me you'd been talking to Caleb for weeks.
She looked down. I understand. No, you don't. She waited. I could have understood one terrible decision.
I could have understood confusion, but you had time to stop. You had time to tell me. You had time to come home. Her eyes filled with tears. I know you didn't.
She wiped her cheek. I thought you would always be there. That was your mistake. She looked at me. I thought you loved me enough to forgive anything.
I loved you enough to trust you. She didn't have an answer. After a moment, she said, "Caleb isn't speaking to me anymore. " I nodded. "I'm sorry. " She looked almost offended. "That's all you have to say?