Am I crazy that I’m not angry that Van has left behind a mark?

Should I be upset?

I wasn’t at all.

Yes, our line had been blurred to the point of obliteration. And yet, as I stepped under the warm water within the glass shower, I had no regrets.

I was an adult woman who made a choice on her own, based on her own desires. Regret was the farthest thought from my mind as I washed my hair and gently washed my body. Being here, just outside Ashland, in Van’s large house was where I wanted to be.

Today was Friday.

I’d walked out on my forever a week ago. Last Friday night was when I’d left my engagement ring on the counter. It was the last time I’d spoken to my best friend. I contemplated the timeline, following the white ribbon and spending time in Ashland before the interview.

The days blurred, just like Van’s and my line.

Thoughts of the canceled wedding came like lead weights pulling me down into the depths of the Great Lake. I imagined the wedding dress my mother and I had selected—another weight. The large venue, flowers, and decorations—more weights. The guest list—hundreds more. My forced smile as I took my vows—the anchor was large enough to keep an ocean liner from moving.

I hadn’t even realized how close I’d been to drowning.

Now, instead of sinking, for the first time, I spread my wings and flew, soaring through the cobalt blue sky. Possibilities I never imagined were before me. Feelings I never realized I was missing were coursing through me.

Van’s and my attraction was new and exciting.

Surely with time it would fade.

It wasn’t as if we’d have marathon sex sessions every night forever.

Besides, I wasn’t looking for forever.

With my hair dried and secured in a low ponytail, minimal makeup, and wearing a long sweater, soft stretch pants, and warm socks, all covering any marks Van had left behind, I reached for my laptop bag. As I did, I saw the note.

Julia,

There’s no rush. Feel free to relax all day. After all, you (and I) were rather active last night. I’m not sorry I woke you. You’re so damn responsive, I couldn’t help myself.

Warmth crept up my cheeks.

I had thought that was a dream. Unlike the other times, during the night, our middle-of-the-night connection was slow and sweet, the lovemaking phase after the fucking. The memories returned as I’d held on to him as we both reached our peaks and floated back to earth.

I continued to read: