The Sidelined Wife(25)

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."