Chapter 2

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My phone suddenly rang, jerking me away from the memories of my youth and of that day. Shaking my head to clear the last traces of nostalgia, I pressed the button to answer the call.

"Elisse? Are you on your way now?" It was my friend Cristy.

"Nope, still at home, sorry. I got distracted for a while. I'm about to leave the house, though. Are you there already?"

"Yeah, just looking for a parking space. I just wanted to make sure you're coming."

"Oh. Yeah, I thought about it and decided to go after all. I miss everyone, and I guess getting divorced isn't really that big of a deal anymore, right?"

"That's what I've been telling you. And if anyone says otherwise, you point them to me and I'll educate them for you."

I pictured Cristy lecturing the ear off some poor old lady and chuckled softly.

"Thank you for having my back, Cris."

"Always. Anyway, I got a slot. I'm gonna head inside. See you in a while okay?"

"Yup. See you."

I ended the call and hurriedly checked if my bag was complete before I hurried out of the room and headed to my car.

Cristy's call gave me the boost I didn't realize I needed.

It took me a while to decide whether or not to go, mostly leaning towards not going. Because I was afraid.

The divorce has been a little over a year ago, but the talk hasn't fully died down yet.

I understand why, and I don't blame them, but I'm getting tired of the whole circus surrounding my divorce. I'm tired of fielding questions about why, what, how my ex-husband and I ended up like this. 

It's ironic that two people who had always worked for the news are now  the news, at least within our social circle. For something that is supposed to be a private matter.

But like I said, I don't blame people for being curious. Even I would admit that the divorce was a shock to everyone who knew us and thought of us as the perfect couple.

Ours was a typical fairytale romance with a fairytale ending. We met at the station and built our careers together, me as a newswriter and him as the newscaster.

We started off as friends and colleagues then realized that our feelings had developed over time, dated for 5 years then got married. Ten years later and here we are, divorced and right at the peak of our careers.

I work mostly behind the scenes so no one should have cared whether my marriage was perfect or not. But my ex-husband Ray was a news anchor and practically a household name. His image and reputation were perfect - until the divorce, and people realized he was human after all.

Truth be told, his reputation was one of the reasons we held on to the marriage for as long as we did. That, and our son, whom we both loved, made us try to make it work even after the marriage has long been dead.

Looking back, I think we both knew in the first few months that we made a huge mistake.

But we were stubborn, and we were perfect on paper, so it was hard to admit the marriage was failing. Then our son arrived and everything else was pushed to the back of the closet, hidden from everyone including us.

What we didn't realize was how it slowly kills you inside until you no longer recognize the zombie that greets you every morning in the mirror.

So after nearly 10 years of marriage, we finally filed for a divorce last year.  And now we have gone full circle - back to being friends and colleagues, which is what we were meant to be in the first place.

I just wish everyone could accept it as it is.

I sigh as I maneuver my way around the parking lot of the restaurant where we all decided to meet up. For some reason, someone , I don't know who, suddenly declared that we needed to celebrate our 20 years in the industry.

We never even celebrated our first, or our 10th, but they said the 20th is important. So okay.

Ray would have come, too, if the time wasn't too close to the broadcast. I don't know if I should be relieved or worried about it. On one hand, seeing us together might trigger more questions, but on the other, it would have been nice to have him there to block off questions for me.

But anyway, he said he can't so that's that. Which brings me back to Paul.










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