PART 7 – I Had Spent Five Years Looking for Another Woman, When the Person I Needed Answers From Had Been Sitting Alone Across Town

The room grew quieter as the evening went on.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed.

Daniel seemed to have difficulty keeping his eyes open.

I watched him carefully.

He looked nothing like the man who had once stood in our kitchen and told me he was seeing somebody else.

That man had seemed distant.

This man seemed tired in a way I couldn't describe.

I asked whether he had been living alone the entire time.

He nodded.

"Yes."

"Nobody?"

"Nobody."

I looked at him.

I had asked the question because I wanted to hear the answer directly.

Still, hearing it made something inside me uncomfortable.

For five years, I had pictured another woman.

I had imagined Daniel sharing the kind of ordinary life we once had with someone else.

I had imagined him having somewhere to go after leaving family gatherings.

But apparently, there had been no one.

He had returned to that small apartment by himself.

And I had never known what to make of that.

I asked whether he had ever wanted to introduce someone to the children.

He shook his head.

"There wasn't anyone to introduce."

I looked away.

I remembered the birthdays.

The school events.

The graduations.

He had always appeared when the children asked him to come.

Sometimes he stayed long enough to speak with everyone.

Sometimes he left early.

I had assumed he was uncomfortable because of the divorce.

Perhaps he was.

But now those memories seemed different.

I wondered what happened when he went home.

Whether he ate alone.

Whether he spent the evenings in silence.

Whether he ever regretted the decision he had made.

I didn't ask those questions.

I wasn't ready to feel sorry for him.

Not yet.

He had made a choice that had affected all of us.

And whatever his reason was, he had kept it from me.

I looked at him again.

"Did you ever think about telling me the truth afterward?"

He nodded.

"Many times."

"Then why didn't you?"

He swallowed.

"I couldn't find a way to explain it."

I shook my head.

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

He seemed to accept that too.

I looked at the small table beside his bed.

His phone was there.

I noticed how close it was to his hand.

It reminded me of the afternoon he had called.

He must have been waiting for the right moment to speak to me.

I wondered how long he had been thinking about making that call.

"How long have you been in the hospital?"

He gave me a short answer, but it didn't tell me much.

I didn't press him about the medical details.

That wasn't why I had come.

I wanted to understand the divorce.

I wanted to understand the confession.

I wanted to know why he had chosen a lie that would make me believe the worst about him.

Daniel turned his head slightly.

"I know you have every reason to be angry."

I looked at him.

"I am angry."

He nodded.

"I know."

"And I'm confused."

"I know."

"And I don't understand why you waited five years."

His eyes became wet again.

"I should have told you."

I sat silently.

It was strange how little those words seemed to change.

He should have told me.

Of course he should have.

He should have told me before the divorce.

He should have told me while we were dividing the house and savings.

He should have told me when the children were adjusting to living between two homes.

He should have told me during any of those birthdays or graduations when we stood in the same room pretending our past was settled.

But he hadn't.

He had waited until he was in a hospital bed.

And now I was expected to listen.

I didn't know whether I could forgive him.

I wasn't even sure what forgiveness would mean anymore.

I had built a life around the belief that he had betrayed me.

If that belief was wrong, then I had to look at everything differently.

But I couldn't simply erase five years.

Neither could he.

I looked at his face.

"Did you ever want me back?"

The question surprised me as soon as I said it.

I hadn't planned to ask.

Daniel looked at me for a long moment.

He didn't answer immediately.

Then he lowered his eyes.

I waited.

I wasn't asking because I wanted our marriage back.

At least, that was what I told myself.

I needed to know whether the man who had let me walk away had ever wished he had done something differently.

The silence between us felt familiar.

It was the same silence I remembered from the kitchen table.

Only this time, I wasn't willing to fill it with my own assumptions.

I waited for him to speak.

Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Hospital Visit Was No Longer About an Old Divorce, Because I Finally Understood How Much Had Been Left Unsaid