Chapter 7

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I remember before, when Paul and I were still on the same team, Ray would often drop by our newsroom for brief chats.

Paul's mood would always change when it happens, like we would be laughing one moment then suddenly he would turn grumpy and touchy like a wounded bear.

I used to think it was because he was protective of his material and he didn't like having the newscaster getting involved with the way he wanted the story to be told.

But his comment made me look at things differently now. Did something happen between them that I did not know of?

Ray never mentioned anything, but then by the time we were dating, Paul and I started drifting apart too so he probably thought I wouldn't care to know whatever it was.

I glanced at Ray, his attention now focused on our colleages seated at his side of the table. Ray was always a good listener, that was one of the things I liked about him. He made me feel important, like my story was always breaking news no matter how simple it was.

Looking around him now, I can see his charm still working on everybody again. This is why he is Mr. Popular and I never could live up to it in our 15 years together. I shook my head slightly at the memory and sighed.

"Regretting the divorce?" Paul asked me softly.

So he did know about the divorce. I turned to look at him, meeting his intense stare, and smiled brightly.

"Nah, it was the best decision we could have ever made. We weren't compatible, you know? We are better off as friends, we just didn't realize it sooner."

"I know," he said matter of factly and I raised my eyebrows in a silent challenge.

"I knew from the start that it wouldn't work. He can't make you happy, he doesn't get you," he continued.

"U-huh. If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. Many times. You just chose not to listen."

There he goes again with that mysterious air. Are we playing twenty questions tonight?

"Okay, tell me now. I'm listening," I challenged him, calling his bluff.

"Later. Let's talk later."

"I'll be leaving early though. I need to pick up Lucas from my mom's."

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I didn't mean literally later tonight. You dummy," he told me as he flicked his fingers on my forehead.

"Hey!"

I reached out to punch his arm in retaliation and I heard chuckles around the table.

"Seeing you two like this brings me back to our first day at work. I still remember Elisse telling the HR Manager to shut up," Marla, another one of our former colleagues, told us with a smile.

I glared at Paul again and he just winked at me playfully. For some reason, this guy always brings out the childish part of me. Even now, when we're almost in our forties, he does it effortlessly.

If my son saw me like this, he would probably wonder what the hell happened to his serious, boring mom. I chuckled at the thought.

"Laughing at yourself, I see," Paul commented with a soft smile.

"I was just thinking about Lucas, my son. He would be surprised to see me acting like this. You know kids, they think their parents were born full grown already."

"How is he?"

"Oh, typical pre-teen. Moody and energetic at the same time. I think it's the hormones."

"Has he come to terms with the divorce? And you, how are you doing?" Paul asked me gently, his eyes softening with understanding, and I felt myself wanting to open up.

I wanted to tell him about my fears of starting all over again. About being nervous at bringing up my son by myself. About the sidelong glances and the outright questioning I've been subjected to since the divorce.

This was the game-faced Paul, the one that won awards for the network.

Now I understand why his interviewees admit to things they never planned on saying out loud. This Paul is impressive and intimidating and awe-inspiring at the same time.

This was a serious Paul, and I've never met him before. But I hesitated, and a second later Paul was flicking my forehead again.

"Wake up, daydreamer."

I scowled, and the moment was gone.

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