I clicked end, not sure why I said all that. I really didn't think he cared anymore. Perhaps it bordered on childish, but you say stupid things when you're angry. Stupid things like letting another man in our lives. Did I really want to? I thought about being in Reed's arms. I didn't recognize it at the time, but it was more than nice. I missed that kind of affection. I'd been missing it for a long time. Well before Neil's affair came to light, those intimate type of touches disappeared. I was so blind. How did I not see that my marriage was in trouble?
How did I miss Reed's advances?
I gave myself a break there. I mean, who would have guessed? Okay, so my brothers saw it. That didn't help me feel any better, considering James was emotionally clueless at times and Peter had missed the signs for years despite being Reed's best friend growing up. And let's not forget I babysat him. I know Reed wished I could and would forget that.
If I could forget, how would I see him? Obviously, his attention flattered me. He was extremely good looking and, I suppose, charming in his own way. He was funny. I smiled and laughed around him more than usual. Other than that, I didn't really know a lot about him, other than Cody adored him, and he'd been nothing but kind to me. He let me cry it out on his suit. And he didn't try to fix anything; he just listened and held me.
I rubbed my face in my hands. Why was I even entertaining this? I couldn't. We couldn't. I shuddered at the thought of bringing him to my parents' place for Sunday dinner. Granted, he was already sitting next to me, but my brothers would tease me relentlessly, and Ma would probably ask him if he had seen my NDA. Or worse, she'd ask if were sleeping together. Oh my gosh, now I was going to have those thoughts in my head.
Remembering being in Reed's arms-or imagining more-reminded me of some of the reasons I had a mini breakdown tonight. Those women, and the way they treated me so different now. Who does she think she is? played in my head. I pulled out my laptop and logged into my blog. I was inundated with new comments about my protein ball post. Lots of people agreed with my assessment; some people wanted me to post my recipe. I obliged while Reed and that phrase played ping pong in my head.
When I was done sharing my glorified cookie recipe-and that's exactly what I called it-I started a new post titled, "Who does she think she is? Let me tell you."
Tonight at my son's football game, I was hit with the cold reality of what else divorce has stolen from me. It was as if going from Mrs. to Ms. changed who I was in everyone's eyes. I never realized what a difference that little "r" meant. Are people afraid divorce is contagious? Is that why they shy away from me? Or perhaps they wonder if it was my fault and what I did. Maybe they just don't know what to say, so they choose to ignore me. Surely they don't think I'm out to find the next Mr. and maybe it will be them or their spouse. Has anyone else noticed this behavior in others since their divorce? Does it get better? How do you handle it?
I wish the slights were the worst part of the evening. Just when I thought the night couldn't get any worse, when I felt as alone as I had ever felt, two women decided to pour vinegar into that gaping wound. This blog and the attention it has garnered apparently didn't sit well with them. I was privy to their mean-spirited conversation when one asked the other about this blog that has become one of my lifelines. The woman's words, "Who does she think she is?" rang loud and clear into the night. I wasn't sure if they meant for me to hear, but I did, and they know I did. For all I know, they will read this post.
So who do I think I am?
I'm the woman who would have sat alone tonight in the stands if it wasn't for my loving family. I'm the woman who could have used a friendly hello, but received nothing but a few strained smiles and a cold shoulder or two by people I had once considered friends. People I need now more than ever. I'm the woman who ached to turn to her spouse tonight to revel in our son's accomplishments, but knew that was forever lost to me.
I'm the woman who couldn't stand the sight of myself in the mirror for months and did all I could to avoid it. I have hated myself more than anyone could hate me. I'm the woman who gets up every day and puts on the mask of a brave face because there is someone I love more than myself and, at the very least, my son deserves that. I'm the woman you think you know so much about because you see my mask. I'm the woman who has judged others the same way and, now more than ever, feels ashamed of my behavior. I'm imperfect and, quite honestly, a mess, but I'm muddling through trying to figure it all out. I'm the woman that will keep falling and making mistakes.
I no longer get to have the title "wife," but I'm finding I'm more than that. I'm finding more about myself every day. Some things I like, some things need to change.
That's who I think I am.
I read over it a dozen times. It was bold, but all true. In my middle-of-the-night exhaustion, I threw caution to the wind and published it, knowing it would now go automatically to my Facebook page and Twitter account that Delanie had set up for me.
I needed to sleep if I wanted to look decent at all for the photo shoot. Maybe I should cancel. Give up this whole Sidelined Wife business. It obviously had ramifications I hadn't foreseen, and now I just added fuel to the fire. I should really quit doing things when I'm angry and confused.
Things to work on in the morning.
I drifted off into a restless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
"Oooh. I love this one." Avery pointed at the picture on Delanie's tablet of me leaning against the faded blue door looking sultry-or was that bored? I couldn't tell.
I had so many pictures taken of me yesterday that my cheek muscles still hurt. Not that I was smiling in all of them, but Delanie's friend, Roger, spent two hours shooting photo after photo of me in all sorts of poses and different locations around downtown Clearfield.
We had all come early for Sunday dinner so Delanie could show us the proofs of the photo shoot. It was decision time. I was all for not choosing. Though I was enjoying the autumn breeze on my parents' front porch. We were hiding outside so Ma and Mimsy didn't feel the need to get involved. And I didn't need another story about the soap opera taking place at the retirement community. I still couldn't shake the Depends around the ankle image in my mind. And the ice boat wasn't going anywhere, so Ma was still upset with Dad.
"Maybe I could be like Autumn Moone and my photo could be of a football field's sideline. That's clever." At least, I thought it was.
Delanie, who was between us on the porch swing, shook her head. "You already used your real name and you're writing about real life, so they need the real you. Autumn Moone only gets away with it because she started out unknown and her publisher made it part of their marketing plan."
"How do you know?" Avery asked.
Delanie pulled up the next batch of photos. "I think I read it somewhere on a marketing blog."
"Huh. Well, it works for her." Avery was already eagerly scanning the new batch of photos.
This set was taken in front of a brick wall. In some I was leaning back, others had only one shoulder touching. In a few I was smiling, or was that smirking? There were serious, studious poses mixed in with playful candid shots of me rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all or throwing my hands up. My favorite was the three of us laughing together. I think I had just tripped up some steps and Delanie and Avery had caught me.
"Let's use that one," I suggested, pointing at the photo of the three of us. It represented more of who I really was, and I hated being the only subject.
Avery and Delanie nixed that idea.
"By the way," Delanie said as she enlarged a photo she liked that had an artistic flair. I was standing in front of an old sign that read, Crossroads. How fitting. "I loved the new post. I hope those women read it and choke on their self-righteousness."
Avery agreed. "I feel terrible we left you alone after the game."
"Please don't. You guys have lives. I don't need to be babysat."
And someone was there to comfort me, though I didn't mention him or that fact he called me yesterday to ask if I would like to have a real dinner with him sometime this week. I said I would think about it, but probably not. He only laughed, not deterred at all.
"Besides," I continued. "What upset me most was Cody. He's hurting and he won't talk about it. And all Neil can do is blame the divorce on me."