Rounding Home: A Memoir of Love, Betrayal, Heartbreak, and Hope with an Intimate Look into Raising a Child with Severe Autism

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Rounding Home: A Memoir of Love, Betrayal, Heartbreak, and Hope with an Intimate Look into Raising a Child with Severe Autism Page 20

by Sarah Swindell


  Bubbles were on my screen for a few minutes while he was typing something back to me. It was long, whatever it was, and I took a giant gulp of my wine and held my breath as I waited.

  CHAPTER 29

  NOTHING PHYSICAL HAD HAPPENED between us since the divorce, but I almost felt like it had by the way my whole body reacted to what I read in the text. I was in trouble and I knew it. He said he still loved me, always had, and he didn’t want to wait until we were old and gray in a retirement home to be together. He said he wanted me back sooner than later. Sooner than later? All of a sudden, everything that was so wrong in my life, that had ever been wrong, felt so incredibly and overwhelmingly right.

  I wish I would have kept what he had written, but sadly I deleted it. I knew I should not have been having that kind of conversation with my ex-husband and was terrified Kenny would find out. None of it was fair to him by any stretch. I was so confused about what I had read that it made my head spin, and I could hardly continue making dinner. For a moment, I felt that I was no better than Amanda, and she was the last person I wanted in my head right now, and the last person I ever wanted to be associated with. But was I? What was this? Was it better that it was my ex-husband and father of my children, or worse?

  “Now what?” I said out loud, as I put my phone down and quickly got myself together. Maybe he had been drinking and had no idea what he was saying. It had happened before, and if that was the case, I would most likely get an apology the next day for overstepping, and nothing more would be said. Yes, that was it. He would text me tomorrow, say he was sorry, that the vodka had gotten to his head, and all would be back to “normal,” whatever that was. And to be honest, I would be fine with that.

  As excited as I had been hearing that Greg still loved me, the panic of how we could ever make it work overwhelmed me. It seemed truly impossible, too many lives would be turned upside down, and it made me anxious just thinking about it. I shoved everything I had read in the last fifteen minutes deep inside, hoping it would stay there for good.

  I served dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, did a load of laundry, watched TV and went to bed with Kenny just like any other night. But everything felt different now, and I had no idea how to handle what my heart was feeling. It was sheer terror, while at the same time, the most calming feeling of love that I had felt in a very long time.

  I tossed and turned the entire night with all the inner conversations I was having. Was I actually even considering ending my marriage, hurting the children, the families, the judgment and embarrassment . . . and get back with Greg? There was no way it would work. We had way too much garbage from the past, and it would be just another catastrophic ordeal for our own children when it would inevitably blow up in our faces. I could not put my children through any more madness as a result of my own poor choices.

  I told myself over and over that I needed to make my marriage work and stop living in the past. Yes, what Greg and I once had was beautiful and real, and it needed to stay in the past where it belonged. I was not even sure if our girls would want us back together again after everything that had happened, as they had grown to love and care about our spouses. I knew my brothers and their wives already thought I was crazy and were tired of all my poor decisions. I was an embarrassment to them, and another divorce would not help.

  Before I finally fell asleep, I decided that just knowing Greg had always loved me was going to have to be enough. The whole thing felt crazy because it WAS crazy! I woke up the next morning feeling like it had all been just an insane dream, and I had a pounding headache from way too much wine. I reached over to get my phone from the nightstand, clicked the screen and saw there was a message from Greg.

  CHAPTER 30

  GREG’S TEXT WAS NOT AN apology for overstepping, and he had not been drunk the night before. He still meant everything he had said, and yes, still loved me and wanted us to be together. While I had convinced myself in the middle of the night that I didn’t want any part of it, the feeling had now dramatically changed—it was all I wanted.

  I would be seeing Greg the following Monday in Giddings to drop Dawson off, and we decided to talk in person then. I thought that maybe by then he would have had a change of heart, and we would get back to the lives we were living. Maybe I was still guarded because I had been so hurt in the past and wanted to prepare myself for that possibility, but this time felt completely different for reasons I still can’t explain.

  The best for all involved would be for Greg to change his mind, even if I really didn’t want him to. It was completely selfish for me to want this so badly; I knew how much it would hurt people. It was all extremely confusing, and I desperately needed advice from someone I could trust with this new crazy, and that someone was my parents.

  I got to my parents’ home, poured a glass of wine, and told them I really needed to talk to them about something and wanted their honest opinion. The moment I told them what Greg had said, my mom started to cry. Was she mad at me? Was she afraid to tell me I was crazy? It was neither; they were tears of joy! My parents had always loved Greg, even after all that had happened, and they knew how special our love had always been.

  Greg had been so good to my parents while we were married, and they thought of him like he was their own son. They knew I had not been happy, they had seen it all over my face for months. Actually, they had seen it for years. Both my parents said they had not seen my face light up more than when I told them what was happening. As always, they gave me their full support and encouraged me to disregard what others would think. “You two have always had something magical. You only have this one life and your happiness matters, not making sure everyone one else is happy.” It was actually the first time anyone had ever said that to me out loud.

  As someone who has always cared what people thought of me, I knew it would be the mother of all judgments. I hated the thought of hurting people, and there was no doubt people would be hurt, especially the children. For the rest of the weekend, I could hardly eat in anticipation of seeing Greg and wondering how our talk would go. What was he thinking? What would happen? Would he change his mind again?

  I hated the feeling that I was being sneaky and deceitful in my own home, but on the other hand, I had a spring in my step that had been missing for a long time. I could hardly look anyone in the eye, I thought they could see everything going on inside my head.

  “How do people actually have affairs?” I thought, over and over. I wasn’t even doing anything, and it was already eating me alive with panic and guilt.

  Monday finally arrived, and I was filled with emotions ranging from excitement and love, to fear and confusion. I loaded Dawson in the car, handed him his bowl of Chex and a ribbon, and we were on our way to meet up with Greg. One of the bonuses of having a nonverbal child is that you can tell them all your deep dark secrets, and they won’t tell a soul. Dawson is a vault of knowledge and will go down in history as the world’s best listener!

  I told Dawson that we were going to see Dad and that we were going to have an early lunch at Whataburger, just the three of us. I told him that Daddy and I were thinking about getting back together, but that it was all very complicated. I asked him to tell me if he had any bright ideas or thoughts about all of it. He said nothing, so with a giggle I took his silence as an excited “YES! I would LOVE THAT!” Thank you, Dawsie!

  When we arrived, Greg was already there, parked in his truck in front of Whataburger. One would have thought we were on a first date, the way my heart felt. I had seen and hung out with Greg plenty of times over the years during kid events, doctor’s appointments, and Dawson exchanges, but never felt anything close to what was happening. He even looked at me in a different way: no longer as the scorned ex-wife, but as if he had not seen me in years. It was the look of pure love, and it made my heart flip once again.

  It was like no time had passed as we slipped into a booth in the back of the restaurant. We were just Dawson’s mom and dad who loved each other very much. Greg and
I sat side by side. We hadn’t sat so close to each other in nine years, and our legs were pressed together under the table. Dawson sat across the table from us with a funny look on his face, and we both burst out laughing as we guessed out loud all the things that he must be thinking.

  After a few minutes, Greg took my hand and held it as we talked, gently stroking my fingers—nothing ever felt more natural. He had not changed his mind over the weekend as I had secretly hoped/not hoped. I asked him how he thought we were actually going to do it. After about an hour of talking through scenarios and details of what was ahead, Dawson started getting antsy. Greg needed to get back to Austin and take him to school for the rest of the afternoon. We were both sad that it was time to part ways.

  We left with the plan that we would wait until the summer to break the news, so that at least Kenny’s daughter would be off to college and maybe it would be easier for her. We would all be empty-nesters except for Dawson by then, and less lives would be affected. We talked about what our children would think and knew they would feel blindsided. We knew we would have to be patient with everyone’s reactions and understand that everyone would think we were absolutely crazy—and I agree, it was crazy! It was not going to be an easy task, but by the end of that one hour in the Giddings, Texas, Whataburger, we knew it was what we both wanted without a shadow of a doubt. Several more long lunches in our Whataburger booth with Dawson made everything even more crystal-clear. We decided the shit storm that we would inevitably go through would all be worth it in the end, as long as we were together.

  Four months felt like an excruciatingly long time to wait, but in reality, it would be just a blip in the big picture. My main worry was how to act like a normal wife at home when I would be living a lie. The thought tore me up during every car ride back. I wasn’t sure that I could get through it. I thought about calling Greg and telling him the whole thing was off, that it was insane and wrong on so many levels. But the thought of not taking the chance to be with Greg felt even more wrong than staying in a bad marriage just for everyone else’s sake.

  One minute I felt like a giddy teenager in love, and the next I felt like the worst person in the world. I was the person I hated most, a liar and a cheater, at least I felt like a liar and a cheater. I did not want to go home to my house. It wasn’t even my house, it was his house before we got married and had never felt like my house. I realized just how much I felt like a visitor in my own home—it had never felt right. Kenny and I had actually started the process of buying a new home before the whole thing happened. I had thought it might help all the feelings that I didn’t quite understand about my marriage. I should have known from experience that a new house does not solve anything.

  I knew that a house had nothing to do with our problems; it was much more than just a house, we were not right for each other. I needed to tell Kenny that we need to postpone the house we planned on buying, but what would be my reason? He would most certainly ask that question, and it was an argument I dreaded having.

  I wanted to turn the car around and go back to Austin to my house and hide away until May.

  CHAPTER 31

  NEEDLESS TO SAY, we couldn’t keep it a secret until May. A few weeks after reading the text while making tater-tot casserole on an evening in February, we decided to tell our family the news. We couldn’t put it off any longer. Some took it well and, understandably, some not so well. Brenna cried, but hers were not tears of joy, as we had secretly hoped. She was worried about our spouses. It was the first thing she mentioned through her tears. It broke my heart to hear her so upset, knowing Greg and I were the sole cause.

  My brothers and their wives listened as I told them our plan over the phone, but I could hear the doubt in their voices. I knew they were all weary with my spontaneous choices in the past. Some of Greg’s family had concerns, and we were made aware of those as well. We knew it would happen and needed to be understanding. Not everyone was going to jump aboard our crazy love boat. We both understood and respected how much they cared for those that would be affected. We created the mess and would have to deal with the negative thoughts.

  Sophia’s reaction was a whole different story, and it still brings tears to my eyes when I think about the day we told her. Greg and I surprised her at her college. She had no idea we were together that day and thought she was only meeting Greg for lunch at a local Mexican food place. Since the Texas Longhorns baseball team was playing Sam Houston State where Sophia attended college, Greg was planning to see Sophia before the game. I decided at the last minute that I would make the one-hour drive as well, but she had no idea I was coming.

  When she walked in, she was shocked to see Greg and me sitting on the same side of the booth, and a little closer together than what divorced parents normally do.

  When she walked towards us with questioning and very concerned eyes, she asked, “Is there something wrong with Dawson? Why are you here too, Mom?”

  “Everything is fine, sweetie, we just need to talk to you about something,” I calmly said.

  Greg took over as he put his arm around me. “I love your mom so much, Soph. We have been talking and we want to get back together, and we want to do it soon.”

  Sophia started crying, and her tears were no doubt tears of joy. “Are you serious?” she asked as she wiped her eyes.

  “We have never been more serious about anything. How do you feel about it?” Greg asked.

  “It’s like a dream coming true! When is it going to happen?” she asked with a burst of excitement through her tears.

  We ordered a a few margaritas and explained our plan the best we could, without knowing exactly what it looked like ourselves. Only that we were going to try and wait a few months, until summer. It meant the world to us to have Sophia’s support with our crazy plan, and seeing her so happy made it even better. Needless to say, she missed her classes the rest of the day.

  I had told Hayley a few days before everyone else over the phone. While she was undoubtedly shocked, she was supportive and happy for us; if she wasn’t, she was kind not to say so. She also naturally had the gut instinct to protect me and was a bit worried I might get hurt again. She did not want to see me go through what I had worked so hard to overcome. I completely understood her fears, and I’m sure she was going through waves of emotions as well. She had worried about me for years, something a daughter should never have to do in the first place. I know she was also preparing for yet another bomb to be dropped for all the world to see, and of course all of that had to be on her mind.

  Obviously we couldn’t wait until the summer to tell our spouses, since the cat was out of the bag. Now that we had told our families and children the plan, there was no turning back. I was firm in my beliefs that I did not want to end up having an affair with Greg, but with our newly professed love, it was bound to happen if we didn’t act fast. There was no way I could do that to Kenny and his girls, nor did I want to hurt Elaine by being any more secretive than we already were. It was already taking a toll on me mentally.

  To this day, telling our spouses was one of the hardest things I have ever done. We both cared about them, otherwise we would have never married them. But those relationships were far from perfect, and we hoped that would ease the shock. It still did not make it any easier to hurt someone, most of all Kenny’s children. They deserved so much better than me, and it killed me knowing how much this was going to upset them. I know it was shocking and incredibly painful for everyone, as I had been there myself many years ago. Maybe that is why it was so hard for me, I could honestly feel and understand their pain better than anyone.

  I am not sure what is worse; having your heart broken, or being the heartbreaker. When you are dumped, at least you get surrounded by love and support, and people feel sorry for all that you are going through, as they should. When you are the dumper, the world hates you and thinks you’re cold and calculating. I even felt that way myself for a while. I hated how I’d hurt the families who I’d grown to care abo
ut, who had welcomed my children and me into their lives. For that, I will always carry tremendous guilt. Nobody deserves to feel the pain of sudden heartbreak and rejection. Being the one to pull the trigger felt just as horrible.

  It was also difficult walking around knowing, or at least feeling, that the world was judging me without knowing the full story, our own families included. I don’t think I ate for days with the whirlwind of emotions—from joy that Greg and I were going to be together, to sadness for how many people were hurting because of us.

  After the dust from the bomb we had dropped settled, it was just Greg and me alone in my condo in Austin. It felt like we were hiding away in a bunker until it was safe to come out. The guilt and anguish was still ever-present, but being with the true love of my life made it all bearable. Nothing in the world had ever felt so right in a situation that was so wrong for others. We were finally alone after we put Dawson to sleep. Alone for the first time in almost nine years, and all that bottled-up love was finally free to come out.

  Greg and I knew every inch of each other’s bodies, but it almost felt like the very first time when we finally got back to the bedroom. Feeling his skin, and exploring what we once thought had been lost to us forever, was intoxicating, to say the least. I had missed everything about him for so long, it almost didn’t seem real as we were tangled up in bed, never wanting to let go. We both were filled with so much raw emotion, the love between us engulfed the room as if time had never passed.

  That first time didn’t last long, and we still laugh about how quickly Greg lost control in the best kind of way. The sounds that came out of his mouth made us both roll with laughter after I sarcastically asked with a shy grin, “So did you . . . ?” We were back, sense of humor and all.

 

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