Chapter 12

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"Honey," I called out in a soft voice, wondering how to calm his worries. He looked up and I almost burst out in tears as I saw his face.

In it I saw all the emotions that he does not know how to express yet - fear, love, anxiety, jealousy, even anger that he can't understand what is happening but he couldn't do anything about it.

I moved towards him, wanting to give him a hug and reassure him that he is loved and that we'll always be here for him.

Then we heard the key turn in the door. Ray was here. Lucas immediately jumped up, probably relieved to escape the emotionally charged room.

Though I wanted to comfort my son, I was grateful for the interruption. Because I don't know how to handle this. I don't know how to help my child work out the worries in his head, especially since I'm part of the problem.

I heard footsteps heading to the kitchen and forced a smile, quickly checking my reflection on the refrigerator to make sure the distress isn't showing on my face.

"Elisse," Ray greeted as he entered, Lucas in tow. "You sure you'll be okay by yourself this weekend?"

I nodded quickly. He always asks me this question every time he picks up our son, it has become our new habit. Just goes to show how much our relationship has changed since the divorce.

When we used to live together, we barely see each other, much less talk to each other. We went to and from work in separate cars, when we get home we're both dead tired, and when sleeping we turn away from each almost as if by instinct.

Now that we live apart, I noticed we've relaxed around each other and are actually talking and sharing, and caring more about each other's lives. We're almost back to where we started. We are in a better place.

So while I regret having hurt our son in the process, I don't regret going ahead with the divorce.

"I'll be fine, Ray," I assured him. "I've gotten used to spending weekends alone, it's been almost 10 months after all."

"Okay. We'll be heading out then."

I walked them both to the door, handing over Lucas' weekend bag along the way.

"Don't stay out too late mom," Lucas told me, stopping just outside the door. Ray looked at him questioningly.

"I'm meeting Paul later to catch up. We didn't get the chance to talk last Wednesday," I answered his silent question.

His eyebrows shot up but he didn't say anything, triggering my curiosity on what exactly happened between them. I made a mental note to ask Paul later.

"Mommm..." Lucas prodded and I realized I didn't answer his question.

"Yes honey, you don't need to give me a curfew," I told him with a grin. "Don't worry about me and enjoy your weekend with daddy, okay?"

He studied me for a while and then, seemingly satisfied with my answer, waved goodbye and headed to the car with Ray.

I closed the door with a sigh and checked the time. It's almost 11am. I had agreed to meet Paul at 3pm so I had a lot of time on my hands.

Maybe I can squeeze in a movie? I squatted in front of the TV and checked my movie collection.

After this morning's surge of emotions, I think I'm in the mood for something light and fun, something that will get my mind off our problems.

A particular movie caught my eye. Miss Congeniality. It's the first movie I ever watched with Paul, which he only did reluctantly after much begging/threatening/bargaining on my part.

I was a huge Sandra Bullock fan back then, and we just finished a major edit so I convinced him to treat me to the movie as a reward.

"You owe me," I demanded. "I was supposed to watch with my friends last night but you made me work til morning. So now they've all watched and I don't have anybody else to watch it with."

"Come on. Who are you kidding? You don't have any friends."

"Hey! I have friends, I just don't introduce them to you."

"You sure they know they're your friends?" He asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Shut up! Are you gonna watch with me or not?"

"Not," he answered firmly.

"You don't even feel guilty, don't you?"

"Not in the least."

"How about I buy you popcorn?"

"Nope."

"Coke?"

"Nope."

"Ice cream?"

"What am I, a 10 year old?"

"Yes," I replied, equally serious.

"Still not interested."

"What do you want, then?" I asked with frustration.

He stared at me for what felt like hours until I started to feel self conscious.

"What?" I demanded to break the silence.

"Well, there is one thing..."

"Go ahead. Spill."

"If you promise to do me a favor, I'll go watch with you."

"What kind of favor?"

"I don't know yet."

"What the hell?!"

"I really can't think of anything right now," he insisted. "So? Are you in?"

I thought about it for a second. What's the worst that can happen? Knowing him, he would probably make me do something really embarrassing, like run naked through the street or something.

But then we're not signing any contract so I can just flat out refuse or pretend I had forgotten all about it. I smiled in satisfaction.

"Deal."

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