The Five Stages of Falling in Love

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The Five Stages of Falling in Love Page 8

by Rachel Higginson


  “Liz!” Emma shouted and I jerked back to the present. “Are you okay?”

  I looked up and met her stormy blue eyes. I smiled weakly and tried to reassure her with a confident expression. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  “About Grady?”

  Actually, for the first time in a long time, it was not about Grady. And that was more reason to end whatever this was with Ben.

  Not that it was anything.

  God, why did I keep doing that?

  “Should we eat?” I knew that was a deflection, but I also knew my psych-major sister would allow it.

  “Yes, I’m starving!” she groaned.

  We settled in around the island and dug into the random appetizers I’d set out. Our mother had never been a very good cook, so Emma and I had learned to pick at food, rather than sitting down to full meals. With my own children, I tried to be better about serving complete dinners. But when Em and I got together we fell back into the routine of our childhood.

  “Me too.” I loaded up my plate with hummus, crackers, jarred bruschetta and some bread. I took a sip of the sugary sangria and decided I wasn’t that much of a snob.

  “So Katherine took all of the kiddos?”

  I nodded around a bite. “She picked up Luce and Jace right after naptime. She plans to keep them through lunch tomorrow.”

  “That’s nice of her.”

  “The kids were really excited.”

  “It’s kind of weird though, isn’t it? I mean, it’s so quiet here.”

  “Yes! I could not wait to have the night off, but now that they’re gone, I can’t stop missing them! There’s something wrong with me.”

  Emma laughed and shook out her hair. “There is nothing wrong with you, Elizabeth. You’re just addicted to children. Okay… maybe that’s not exactly normal. But I’m sure with a little therapy and maybe we can get you some Xanax and-”

  “Okay, stop! You big brat.” I gave her a dirty look and tried not to smile. “We just haven’t been apart very much over the last few months. I’m not used to having the house to myself.”

  “Well, we’d better make the most of it!” Her blue eyes twinkled with the possibilities. “Should we turn on some rap music and dance around in our underwear? Or ooh! We could pop some popcorn and watch terrible TV that you would never turn on when your children are home!”

  “Wow, Em, your ideas are truly inspired.”

  She did not appreciate my sarcasm. “Alright, sister dearest, what’s your brilliant plan for the evening?”

  A thought struck me. “Let’s go swimming!”

  “Swimming?”

  “My new neighbor has a heated pool! And he said I could use it whenever I wanted.”

  “The new neighbor?” Her eyebrows rose with interest. “The hot new neighbor?”

  “Ben,” I offered.

  Her interest died and she crinkled her nose. “Right, Ben. But won’t it be weird if we just walk over there and jump in? What if he has people over?”

  “He’s not there. He has a date tonight.”

  “A date?” She shook her head slowly like she had trouble figuring this out. “How do you know so much about his social life?”

  “I’m playing nice,” I told her. The guilt swarmed again and I wondered if saying the words out loud would make it go away. Now it felt like I was hiding something illicit from her. Which was ridiculous. I needed to rip this Band-Aid off and face her judgment. “He helped me mow once and I’ve seen him a few times since then.”

  “Oh,” she sounded honestly surprised. “That is nice of you.”

  “I can be nice.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “So do you want to go swimming? You can borrow one of my suits.”

  “It’s heated?”

  “It is! I’ve already been in it once, remember?”

  “Sure, sounds fun! We’ll take our wine over there. Actually, it’s starting to sound amazing.”

  By the time we finished picking at our dinner and put the leftovers away, we had finished the first bottle of sangria. We left the dishes and wandered upstairs to pick out swimming suits from my limited supply.

  Emma wasn’t impressed with my offerings, but she found one that she deemed “could work.”

  I slipped into my choice, a simple black two-piece, and couldn’t help but feel extremely naked. I stared at my body in the bathroom mirror and wrapped my arms around my middle.

  I hadn’t been self-conscious about my image since high school. When I got to college I really grew into my own skin and decided to start loving who I was. Then I met Grady. If I had been okay with what I looked like before, his adoration for my body gave me a whole new sense of confidence.

  Throughout our marriage, whatever insecurities I had never lasted long with his appreciative gaze and sweet, whispered words. He made me feel beautiful. He built up a confidence in me that I had hoped was unshakeable.

  I didn’t want to be the kind of girl that found her value in other people’s words, and I didn’t think I was. But his constant reminding had made it easy.

  I still had the same body; in fact, I was much more toned now than I had been in my marriage. I had been soft from happiness and four pregnancies. I hadn’t been fat, just soft.

  Now, after months of running, my muscles were toned and my stomach had some definition. And yet, staring at myself in the mirror, I missed the easy way Grady made me feel sexy. I missed the way he would stare at me as if he couldn’t believe that I was real.

  I could hold those memories close, but they could never do for me what his actual presence did.

  “You look hot! Let’s go!” Emma smacked my booty, pulling me back to reality.

  “I haven’t been in a swimming suit in a while.”

  “I can tell.” Emma circled her bikini area and I had a mild, embarrassing panic attack. But I was fine. Whew. She cackled at my expense and then tugged on my arm. “Come on, Sasquatch, it’s just you and me.”

  We left the house wide open and carried our towels barefoot across the lawn. Ben’s house stood completely dark and without signs of life. A twinge of nerves pinched inside of me that he might come home early. But I brushed it aside; he was the one that had extended the offer. After getting to know him the last two nights, I knew he wouldn’t care.

  We walked through his back gate and spent a little time searching for a light.

  “All of the switches must be inside,” I told Emma, finally giving up.

  “Then I’m getting in! I’m freezing!” She walked to the side and slid in gracefully. I set my towel down on one of Ben’s loungers and walked over to the edge. She popped out of the water and splashed warm water on my legs. “It’s nice in here. Don’t be a baby.”

  I dove into the deep end and felt the warm water wrap around my skin. My hair floated around my face and I felt weightless.

  I came up for air and then dove under again. I closed my eyes and drank in the absolute darkness. I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t have any kids to worry about for the night. And I had actually had a good time with my sister. We hadn’t spent the night weeping over my loss and the uncertain future. We’d just hung out and enjoyed each other.

  Now submerged underwater, I drank in the isolation and let my heart seize with grief once again. It didn’t seem fair that I kept living while Grady didn’t. It didn’t seem possible.

  I kept waiting for Grady to come back. I kept waiting for him to walk in the door and wrap me in his arms and promise me that everything would be alright now. I couldn’t let him go.

  I didn’t want to let him go.

  Letting him go meant acknowledging that he would never come back. And I just couldn’t. I needed him too much.

  I loved him too much.

  I kicked to the surface once again, desperate for air and escape. I couldn’t sink into those thoughts again. I couldn’t go there now or I would drown in them. The pool water felt especially poignant as I raced away from that dark
place.

  Emma reclined against the side and stretched out both of her arms to keep her body anchored. I swam in front of her and treaded water to stay afloat.

  “This is really nice,” she murmured her approval, tipping her head back and resting it against the patio. “We need to take Ben up on his offer more often.”

  “We can just hope he goes on a lot of dates.”

  She picked her head up and looked at me. “Does he go on lots of dates?”

  “How would I know? I just know he’s on one tonight.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “I don’t think so. He said this was only their second.”

  “So he’s still technically single?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Big house for a single guy.”

  I laughed at my sister’s not-so-subtle inquiry. “He’s a lawyer.”

  “Oooh, single and stable. I like it.”

  “I’m glad he meets your standards.”

  “Have you seen him? He could be unemployed and live with his parents and he would meet my standards.”

  I splashed her in the face, “Please don’t say that! You two would end up moving in with me and then I would have to take care of six children!”

  “Liar. You would love having a live-in babysitter.”

  “Okay, that’s true.”

  She grinned at me, but it faded some when she said, “You and Grady were poor in the beginning. You were still happy. It’s not about money with me.”

  I cleared my throat and tried not to get overly emotional. “We were happy,” I whispered. I shook off some of that sadness and smiled, “But you’re more materialistic than me.”

  It was her turn to splash me in the face. “Am not!”

  I pulled my arm back to splash her again when the patio lights blinked on and Emma and I were suddenly spotlighted in the middle of Ben’s pool. The patio door slid open and he walked outside, speaking in low tones to a gorgeous brunette with inhumanly long legs.

  Humiliated and feeling obnoxiously frumpy, I made a squeaky sound and plummeted beneath the surface. Then I felt silly for trying to hide in the pool, which was obviously impossible, so I swam to the side and resurfaced.

  “Liz?” Ben sounded incredibly surprised to find us in his pool.

  “Hey, Ben.” My skin burned with embarrassment. “Sorry, we were, um, going for a dip.”

  “I can see that.” The mild irritation in his tone could not be misinterpreted.

  I swatted my sister’s thigh to push her into action. She had been momentarily speechless and just as embarrassed as me. We swam for the ladder and pulled ourselves from the water.

  There was just no subtle way to get out of the pool. I felt Ben’s eyes on me the entire time and couldn’t help but feel like a teenager caught red-handed. Emma and I moved to our towels quickly, neither of us making eye contact with Ben or his date.

  “Liz, you don’t have to go. You and your sister are welcome to stay and swim. We were just going to have a glass of wine. We can do that inside.”

  I whirled around and looked at Ben in his black pants and pressed blue dress shirt, holding a bottle of wine and two stemmed glasses. A wave of irritation rolled through me. I shook it off and forced myself to feel embarrassment again. “No, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect you to be home so early.” It was his date’s turn to blush. She took a step away from him and looked down at her pretty black stilettos. “I didn’t mean to say that you shouldn’t have come early. Or that you couldn’t come home early. I just, what I meant to say, was that I expected your date to last longer.” Oh, god. I slapped a hand over my eyes. “No, that’s not what I meant either. Obviously, your date is still going on. I… I… I’m going to stop talking now.”

  “Probably for the best.” I could hear the grin in Ben’s voice so I refused to look at him.

  “Hi, I’m Liz,” I said to his date instead. She probably hated me by now, but I felt the need to explain my presence. Hopefully that would help Ben regain whatever footing I’d caused him to lose. “I live next door.”

  “Hi, Liz. I’m Megan.” She reached out politely to take my hand. The towel hung awkwardly in front of me and when Megan took her hand away it was wet from mine.

  “I’m Emma,” my sister said brightly when she shook Megan’s hand next.

  “Hi, Emma,” Ben greeted in his smooth tone.

  “Hi, Ben,” my sister giggled adding to my humiliation even more.

  The four of us stood there rocking on our heels for another minute and the tension was painful. I finally met Ben’s dark gaze and pressed my lips together to keep from cringing from the force of it. A slow smile spread across his full mouth and I knew I was forgiven, but I still felt bad about this small interruption to his date.

  “Well, we’ll get going!” I announced in a rush. “Ben, I’m so sorry! I should have thought ahead.”

  He shook off my apology with a jerk of his chin. “It’s fine, Liz. I’m the one that offered my pool. Use it any time.”

  “Thanks.” I started walking backwards. “Thank you.” Emma moved with me. We were almost to the gate.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night?” he called after me.

  What? I might have panicked when I replied, “I can’t tomorrow! We’ll talk. I’ll talk to you later.” Then I turned around and basically fled for my house.

  Emma hurried to keep up with me. “Oh, god,” she groaned miserably. “That was so awkward!”

  “I know!” I hissed. “I didn’t expect him to bring her home with him!”

  Emma threw her head back and laughed. “That’s because you haven’t been on a second date in like fifteen years!”

  “It hasn’t been fifteen years!” Only twelve. The difference between Ben Tyler and me punched me in the side and I lost my breath. He was on a second date and hoping to get lucky. I would never be in that position again. He was at the very beginning of his love life and I had watched mine wither and die. He was free to date whomever he wanted and I had buried the greatest love of my life.

  I stumbled in the cool grass, nearly crippled by the weight of that realization. Emma was in the same place as Ben, but for some reason it had never bothered me when I thought about her dating life or future with a man.

  Ben’s differences stood out painfully from mine. He spotlighted the finality of my husband’s death and the depressing loneliness I had to look forward to from now on.

  Ben would eventually find a girl, maybe Megan, fall in love, get married and go on to live in blissful matrimony.

  From this moment on I would grieve Grady, there would never be anything else for me.

  “Liz, what was Ben talking about? Why did he want to see you tomorrow night?”

  I looked at my beautiful, young, carefree sister and desperately wished I could trade places with her for just a few hours. I closed my eyes against the agony of my grief for just a moment before I met her curious gaze. “No reason,” I told her hoarsely. “Just neighbor stuff.”

  “Sure, neighbor stuff. Because that’s a thing.”

  I didn’t say anything and she didn’t push me. Emma always knew when not to push me. We dried off and put on our regular clothes again. The rest of the night was spent drinking the second bottle of sangria and watching reality television.

  And I tried not to think about Ben Tyler and the date that I nearly ruined.

  Stage Two: Anger

  Denial came first. Then anger.

  I thought working through denial was the hardest thing I would ever do. It had been crippling. But the problem with coming to terms with something as heartbreaking as losing the love of my life is that now I had to live with it.

  This is my reality.

  This.

  This is who I am. Grady’s death made me this. A widow. A single mom. Heartbroken and lonely and frustrated and overwhelmed and gutted.

  And more than everything else, angry.

  I’m only thirty-two years old. I shouldn’t have to go through this a
t thirty-two. I shouldn’t have had to face Grady’s illness or the horror of his treatment or the traumatizing experience of watching my husband fade away.

  I shouldn’t have to figure out how to raise four children on my own, without a partner, without the daddy they loved and looked up to. I shouldn’t have to comfort my sons who lost their hero or my daughters who lost the man that they should compare all others to.

  I shouldn’t have to hurt like this. Weep like this. Long like this.

  But I have no other choice and that made me so very angry.

  While my heart and mind continue to work through my loss, life around me continues to go on. It moves without my permission. It propels me forward without my consent.

  I need time to process everything, to work through these five stages and deal with each as they come. But that isn’t possible.

  Time doesn’t stop and the days keep ending and beginning again and I move from denying that my husband isn’t coming back to feeling absolutely furious that I will never see him again. Never be with him again. Never touch him or look at him or breathe him in.

  I can’t even be satisfied that I get to move beyond denial.

  I am far too angry to care.

  Chapter Nine

  “Abby, hurry up! Your cereal is getting soggy!” I whirled around, armed with orange juice and a spoon for Lucy. There was a possibility we would be on time for school today.

  “Mom, I have a game tonight, don’t forget.”

  “Chuck!” Jace squealed. I pushed his toast back in front of him.

  “Please don’t forget,” Blake pleaded.

  I looked at my eldest son and felt pangs in my chest. When had he gotten so old? So mature? His burnished red hair needed a trim, but the tussled look suited him. His bright green eyes were sleepy still and I swear he had grown two inches in the last month. My heart ached watching him become a bigger kid and slowly turn into an adolescent.

  “I’ll remember,” I promised him. “It’s on the calendar.”

  He grunted into his cereal bowl. “I packed all of my stuff, so we can go right after school.”

  “Blake, the game isn’t until 4:30.”

 

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