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“That’s what you’ve been doing then? Meeting other people? Getting over me?”
No.I’ve tried to convince myself that was what I wanted—to forget Bo, to stop feeling all the feelings. To push away the hurt and disappointment andanger—yes, I am still angry with him, with myself, with the circumstances that brought us here, that I still don’t understand.
“I’ve never gotten over you,” I whisper into my tea. “But I had to move on.”
“You never came home. You never let me explain.”
“What would you have said?”
There’s no response. Bo could have tried to explain before I left, while I was gone, but he didn’t. He never said anything other thanmistake,shouldn’t have happenedandcan’t tell anyone.He didn’t stop his wife of less than two weeks, the person he promised to love and cherish for the rest of his life, from moving to another country.
Alone. Without him.
I wonder if he even understands it now. I know I don’t.
I shrug into his silence. I have versions of what I might have said to Bo, dreamt up during sleepless nights when all I wanted was to see him one more time but I can’t find the words now.
“You never came home,” he repeats.
“Mabel came to visit,” I offer, like he might have been worried about me being alone.
Maybe he was. I have no idea because I never heardone wordfrom Bo once I left.
“I was with Abigail and my grandfather. Everyone else…” I don’t have to explain about my family. I’ve never had to with Bo.
We both knew that was a big part of the reason I was able to leave.
“It would have been too hard,” I add. “I didn’t want to see you if we…” If we couldn’t be together, I’m thinking.
Is he thinking the same thing? “Maybe we could have.”
Could have what? There only would have been one possibility. If I had come back, or if I’d never left in the first place, I know where I’d be right now.
Not having this conversation, that’s for sure. “You can’t say that now,” I whisper. “That’s not fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair.”
He’s got a point there. As much as I blame Bo for not coming to find me, for telling me the marriage was a mistake, I had been the one who got on the plane headed to British Columbia.
I’m the one who ultimately left. I could have stayed and fought for him, rather than cry through the entire flight.
There’s a lot of things I can be blamed for too.
And I know Bo will blame me, as soon as it all comes out. “Bo… there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Yeah. You met someone.” I’ve never heard him so bitter, so full ofremorse. “You said that.”
“No, it’s…” I gulp my tea, scalding my mouth as I hunt for my courage. How do I do this? What do I say? Should I blurt it out and take the repercussions as they fall? Gently ease into it?
Bo turns to me, and looking into those blue eyes makes me lose my nerve. I can’t find the words. I pull my bag toward me, find my phone. With my heart stuttering like an old car backfiring, I scroll through my pictures.
I hand my phone to him. “This is Tema.”
He has to know. The smile… the reddish hair. Those eyes.
But he looks at me with confusion. “Who? What is this?”
“Bo, she’s…” There’s a moment of terror because how can I tell him? How could I havenottold him?