The Twenty Year Triangle

Chapter One

Present Day
Early summer 2018

I've had my heart-broken three times in my life, and I'm not talking venting it out with the girls over ice cream kind of hurt. I'm talking about the soul-crushing, never wanting to get out of bed again, hurts to even breathe, kind of broken.

The first was, in some ways, the hardest, the one that never was. That never knowing thing, the what if's, it's haunting. Ironically, he's on his way over here. My dad roped him into helping me move, not he had to try very hard. He may have never been, but he always was. There, I mean, just not in the way I wanted.

Then the next one...I lied, actually. The second was the hardest, maybe because my heart was still healing from the first. The infamous one that got away. In my case, he's the one that ran away. Far, far away, and never came back. Leaving behind lifelong promises- shattered and forgotten. The damage left a gaping hole I never fully healed from.

Finally, and most recently, the one I married. At one time, he could make me melt with just his smile, and now... well... now, we can't even look at each other without scowling. I can be fair and say we broke each other's hearts, but if you ask Julian, he'll blame me. I'm the one that wanted out; therefore, I'm the one at fault, his logic, of course.

This hurt is different than the others because it's been spreading slowly, over time, eating away at us little by little. Until I ripped the Band-Aid off and ended it, now it all comes in stages, hurt, anger, relief, hope... then guilt. It's all just... a lot.

I'm standing in the center of our cookie-cutter piece of suburban pie. Well, I guess I should say the bank's little piece of pie. It was never ours, and now it's theirs again. Most couples split assets after a divorce. Julian and I split debts and had our house foreclosed on. Got to love a cherry on top of it all, right?

So, I'm moving back in with my parents and he's... I actually don't know where Julian is. Funny thing is that doesn't bug me so much anymore.

All I have left to haul out of here is a bunch of duffel bags, some hefty garbage bags jam packed with clothes and a few boxes, and once those are gone, it'll be like we were never here. I hope the next couple that walks into this picture-perfect oversized Cape Cod, with its beautiful oak floors, high ceilings, and brightly colored walls, loves it like we almost did. I hope they walk in and find themselves full of hope; that it can be the home for them, it never was for us.

I hear a loud diesel truck coming down the road, and I know it must be my ride. None of the men in this development would be allowed a truck that loud. I smirk to myself at the deafening roar as it grows closer. The neighborhood bitchy bees, as I call them, are probably already riled up. Heading to their picture windows to look out and see who dares disturb the peace. I think they secretly enjoy having things to complain about, anything they can latch their stingers onto. It's as if they live off the negative energy they create.

They have been circling me since Julian officially moved out a month ago. They come by with their wine and well wishes, but they're really looking for gossip. I can't stand any of them; I never could.

"We saw Julian leaving; how are you holding up, honey?"

"Whatever you need. Just let us know; we can only imagine how you feel."

"When Rob and I hit our rough patch, it was awful. It's too bad you and Julian weren't able to weather it like we did."

"The trouble with marrying so young is this younger generation gives up so easily. We were taught to fight."

"Ellen! I'm sure they tried. Anyway, at least you didn't have children. You still have your figure."

"Maybe if they'd had, they'd have weathered it better, though...."