Why is it always 2 pm? My last boyfriend broke up with me on December 9th, 2009 at 2 pm. Also a Saturday. But who is keeping track of such things?
My Husband decided not to go on the tea date with the girl he dated before me, after all. He didn’t say it was because I told him it bothered me, but I am hoping it had something to do with it. I am hoping I, had something to do with anything at all.
It was another beautiful Saturday in Los Angeles, early Spring. I invited my daughter’s best friend over for a play date while My Husband ran errands.
While the two kids played in the bright blue blow-up pool in our backyard, I sat and watched and waited. I had no idea what I was going to say to him when he got home, I only knew I had to say something.
I heard his car pull up. Heard the alarm beep. His shoes came bounding up the stairs. The front door opened and closed. And then there he was, in front of me. My heart was beating like a rabbit. My stomach in knots. He sat down in the patio chair across from me. The kids moved from the pool at our feet to the playhouse behind us. I could hear them chirping playfully to each other in the background. The birds were singing along. Light dappled across the ground and on his face through the leaves.
He said I looked grave. He looked bemused. I asked him if, after sleeping on it, he was sure that he had no sexual feelings for me whatsoever. He was sure. He did not. Punch.
And the words came out effortlessly and calmly. I said, “In that case, this is not a marriage and that portion of our relationship is now over.”
He looked at me. I looked at him. My heart wasn’t beating like a rabbit anymore. My stomach was relaxed. I had finally spoken from my soul’s desire to have more in this life. And that voice was pretty cool.
He said, “Okay.”
And that was that.
My four-year marriage to the father of my child was over.
My daughter is three and a half. The math was never on our side to begin with, but fuck me if I didn’t do everything in my power to beat the odds.
I knew it was 2 pm because my phone dinged at that moment, alerting me that my friend was coming to pick up her child. I noticed the time. I made a mental note about the portentousness of Saturdays at 2 pm resulting in inevitable endings.
The rest was logistical. Who moves what where, when, and with whom.
I hate to say this, but he looked relieved more than anything else.
And man, that look hurt like a motherfucker.
Eventually, we decided it made more sense for us to continue living as roommates, something we had been doing for years already, until our lease ran out in December. That way we could save a ton of dough on paying double rent.
I didn’t let him see me cry.
That was Saturday.
By Sunday, he informed me that he would be moving out immediately and staying with his ex-girlfriend and best friend. He thought it would be better for ME if he did that.
I said Okay.
He also said that he would be finding a super cheap little studio to rent so our daughter, and I could stay living in the house, at least until December.
I said Okay.
By Monday, he had found a one bedroom apartment to rent in the hip and happening Arts District that was not super cheap or little. Therefore my daughter and I needed to find a more reasonable place to rent for ourselves and fast.
I said um. okay.
I panicked until I thought of the little two bedroom cottage right next door to us that our neighbors have been lovingly renovating for the past six months. Immediately I called them, explaining our predicament and asked if my daughter and I could come take a look. They said okay, they would meet me there in 10 minutes. I held my daughter in my arms as I surveyed what felt like a perfect place for her and me. When I asked them what they were planning on renting it for, knowing it was well out of our league, the husband answered, with tears in his eyes, “What can you afford?”
I burst into tears alongside him and his wife. I never have known such kindness.
By Tuesday, my daughter and I were moving right next door to our old place with a rent we could afford, no deposit, and month to month.
I felt carried by the hands of the Universe as I began to pack up the house where my daughter learned to crawl, walk and eventually run.