After Our Fall-out, I Dodged His Enticements1
After seven years into marriage, everyone around us is on our case about having a baby.
"Tick-tock, if you don't get on it, your wife will be in the maternity ward with the seniors!"
Ryan squared his shoulders, his voice steady. "It's not that I dislike kids, it's just... I'm unable to have them, ever."
Later, spotting him on the beach in matching outfits with a toddler, building sandcastles—laughter shared, child aloft, his smile outshining the sun—it was a sight.
That day, I figured I shouldn't hog the title Mrs. Collins any longer, so I left him the divorce papers.
He wouldn't sign, brushed it off saying the child was unplanned.
Next thing, the kid's mom drove into me with her car.
*****
For the first time in our seven-year stretch, Ryan missed my birthday.
He was racked with guilt, had even prepped an extravagant gift, and made sure our friends could make it, to make up for his absence.
Sadly, he was the one who couldn't show.
I gazed at the bespoke mini landscape cake he'd ordered, a tiny, perfect replica of our beach wedding.
So vivid, it felt like stepping back in time.