summary: in which you and sevika are divorced. read part two here.
word count: 3368
content: this is a second chance romance with divorcees. it will be a heavier read than roommate!sevika and coworker!sevika is. topics of angst, smut, heavy drinking, mental illness, parental death, grief, miscarriage and infertility will be dealt with throughout the story.
this will be a multi-part story. I feel very passionate about the two mc's. I hope you enjoy the beginning of what has been a very emotional rollercoaster ride.
thanks for reading!
~~~
The grass is high, tickling your calves as you stroll through the front yard. Ava sits on your right hip while her head rests perfectly in the crook of your neck. The feeling of her exhales, steady and soft, reminds you of her peaceful slumber. There's a slight burn in your biceps, which is unfortunately due to her rapid growth (your brain struggles to catch up with the passing time). Your heart squeezes at the mere thought and you try to scribble this moment into your hippocampus. This is something you need to remember. Time is not on your side–it was so much easier to hold her merely months ago.
Cicadas buzz in the air and moisture sticks to your skin from the lingering humidity of rainfall. Your strides are leisure—slow–as if to drag out each step to your car. And you know that secretly, in the back of your mind, this is because you’re hyper aware of the woman, Sevika, who walks beside you. You match her pace with ease. Despite the string of silence between you two, the way in which your existence syncs with hers is second-nature. Out of the corner of your eye, you observe how her hands remain in her pockets, head hung low. She watches the ground with each step, a habit of hers that you still find interesting years later. Her boots make a soft thud against the soil. The air is mixed with the earthy scent of wet grass and the spicy cologne that oozes off of her.
When the both of you reach your car, she’s the first one to speak. “Keys?” She asks, voice nothing more than a slight murmur. She doesn’t meet your eyes, gaze flitting from the ground to Ava.
“Purse.” You whisper, displaying an equal amount of tender care to not wake your daughter.
When you first arrived at Sevika’s house, you forgot to unhook your car keys before she placed Ava in your arms. It isn’t common that your daughter is sleeping when you pick her up. But the two of you know that it’s always better to not disrupt her slumber during changeovers.
You shift your body so that your left shoulder is facing Sevika, displaying the faded red purse that sits on your shoulder.
For a few seconds, you find yourself searching for the moment that Sevika comes in contact with you. Surely an accidental graze of the skin or shifting of your purse would be a telltale sign of her presence. But instead you encounter nothing but stillness. She somehow manages to unclip your carabiner of keys with grace, careful not to make much noise. Careful not to touch you.
Surrounding trees bustle in the wind while she unlocks your car. She opens the backdoor quietly, watching Ava with fond eyes. Your daughter doesn’t stir.
It’s an all familiar rhythm–the way that you and Sevika work to place Ava into her carseat. Sevika is always thorough in buckling her in; double checking the snugness of the straps, triple checking the buckle placements and that the seat is anchored. You start the car and roll down all the windows, so that fresh air wafts throughout the vehicle for your daughter. Then you pull your keys out of the ignition and clip them against one of your belt loops. Silently, you step outside of the car and close the driver door. Sevika whispers a quiet goodbye to Ava, kissing the child on the cheek before joining you.
“How was she?” You ask.
“Fine.”
“Did you remember to sing to her while tuckin-”
“Yes.” Her voice is curt.
“...And the candy.” You continue. Within the last few weeks, you noticed that Ava had been asking about candy frequently, in which she admitted that Mama (Sevika) always has. After talking to Sevika about it, you both had come to an agreement that nutritious meals weren’t being prioritized. Sevika did not hesitate to assure you that changes would be made.
So did you have any reason to be pestering her about it weeks later? You could probably come up with a bullshit excuse. But you have to admit that the necessity of it is useless. Just like your desire to remind her about Ava’s bedtime routine and all the other bickering you’ve instigated during changeovers in the past.
“I know you like giving it to her,” You hate how bitter you sound. “But we agreed last time that she should not be excessively consuming it…so much that-”
“I’m capable of feeding her meals, you know.” Sevika’s jawline becomes visible then, eyes flashing.
“With food that isn’t junk?” You regret the words right after they slip from your tongue. But it’s too late to backtrack.
“I don’t know if the divorce gave you memory loss but it seems I must remind you that our daughter, and you, never went a day without me cook–”
“Look, I’m just holding you accountable.”
Sevika’s nostrils flare. “If I had known that you would be in such a shit mood, I would have had–”
“Not in a shit mood at all.”
Her lips roll inwards, rubbing together and creating deep etches into her cheeks. She’s all fire–warmth emanating off of her and meeting you. You know that you’re on thin ice; probing and pushing her with no valid reason. There’s only so much that a human can take when interacting in the way that you two do. This has always been an issue. But it seems to have worsened over the years.
“Ava is well fed here. ” She finally responds. “...We take good care of her.”
And there it is–the clip of her words…the quiet storm that always seems to be creeping up on her whenever the both of you hold a conversation longer than a minute.
But it doesn’t hurt you like it used to. Because you find yourself lingering on the latter sentence she uttered…
We take good care of her.
Your eyebrow raises before you can help it, folded arms tightening around your chest. “We?” You mutter.
A simple word; one that a passerby wouldn’t bat an eye at.
But with you it holds weight and Sevika knows it does.
It’s her well-kept weapon that she draws out during the moments where it seems to count the most.
The insinuation is so small that it shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t annoy you.
It’s been years, after all. It’s only natural for this to happen.
But it does hurt and it does annoy you.
A small part of you fears that it always will.
Sevika looks directly at you for the first time today. Her eyes swirl with a turbulent grey that used to completely disembody you. In the past, when her gaze would meet you with such intensity, you would grab whatever limb of hers that you could. You would smile. You would pull her towards you until your breath mixed with hers. You would kiss her and you would wish to the Gods that she never looked at you any differently.
But that was then.
And this is now.
And you can’t stand those eyes–that stare. It’s too much.
Too annoying. Too familiar. Too provoking.
Just like all the times before, the weight of her stare nearly causes your lungs to combust. You become aware of the beads of sweat sliding down your temples and the thick humidity dancing in the air. You force yourself to look away.
“Are we circling back to this conversation?” Sevika rasps. “Again?”
Out of instinct, your eyes roll. “Depends. I’d like to know that you can feed our daughter without relying on–”
“Jesus fucking christ.”
“...I mean, if she’s like the housewife, or whatever, fine. That’s your business. Fuck who you want. But–”
“You’re relentless.”
“My mind would be much more at ease if I knew that you could spend quality time with our daughter, that you could love and care for her and feed her without the presence of your latest fuck swooping in and thinking that they can mother Ava better than–”
Abruptly, as if God herself was teasing you, a voice interjects with, “Honey!”
The source comes from meters away, right from the stairs that lead to Sevika’s porch. Hazel, Sevika’s latest girlfriend, waves at the pair of you. She’s clad in another one of her skin-tight activewear sets. It’s the kind that hugs every curve of her body. She’s a beautiful woman, always seeming as if she's just left a pilates class despite there being zero evidence of sweat or exhaustion on her face. Sevika has great taste. If you didn't know Hazel and spotted her at the bar, she would definitely be on your radar.
She’s sweet enough, never seeming to have any ill intent towards you (or Ava) whenever she graces your presence. But you’re still wary of her.
You’re wary of all the girls that Sevika involves herself with.
Hazel winces as she walks across the front yard to meet the both of you. Her feet sport hot pink flip flops, which probably isn’t the best choice of footwear given the heaps of mud and wet soil.
“Has Hazel been with you the whole week?” You inquire, managing to keep your voice low enough so that only Sevika can hear.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
“I need to know that my daughter is–”
“Bullshit.” Sevika’s weight shuffles beside you, the soles of her boots kicking nearby rocks. You don’t look at her. “I’m careful. I always will be. You know this.”
Hazel’s growing presence insinuates that this conversation will be coming to an end soon.
This isn’t the first time you’ve badgered Sevika about Hazel. You wish that you could be the sort of ex that’s accepting of…all of this. You wish that you didn’t have to be the person that gets the last word–the one that’s desperate to injure her as much as you’ve been injured. You wish that your words didn’t turn to venom–that your questions didn’t bleed with accusations.
But that isn’t realistic. Not after everything that’s occurred.
However, you do know that you aren’t being reasonable. You could blame it on the fact that it’s been another week lost without your daughter, which always makes you feel crabby and in turn is causing you to lash out. You could blame it on the fact that you didn’t eat much today, caught up in the busyness of work, which is now catching up to you.
A multitude of reasons exist and are equally sound enough.
But it doesn’t matter. Because you’re out of line and you know it.
Sevika has always been a great mother. Despite the issues between you two, despite the messy divorce and the (oftentimes) heated coparenting, you know that she always puts Ava first. Sevika’s motherhood is a badge of honor that she’ll forever wear. That’s what made the two of you try for Ava, after all.
“And the we thing,” Sevika adds. “It was me chatting shit. You annoy me with that…the nagging.”
“You’re so fucking petty,” You hiss. Despite the insult, you can’t help but laugh.
A few seconds of silence pass. Then, “I know you get anxious when Ava’s gone, but you know full well that I implement every single thing we talk about. And I’d appreciate if you could just trust me–”
Your lips are chapped and your tongue swipes them out of habit. A heavy sigh escapes you, muscles unspooling. “Sev,” You begin, eyes fluttering. “I get it. In the back of mind, I have no doubts that-”
“Babe, you didn't tell me that Ava was getting picked up today. I would have given her a hug.” Hazel interjects, reaching the both of you. She meets Sevika with a kiss on the cheek, before wrapping an arm around your ex’s waistline. Before Sevika can reply, Hazel turns to you. She flashes an award-winning smile. “It’s always a pleasure to see you,” She adds.
You wish you could be as saccharine. Instead, your mouth merely twitches.
“Hazel,” You greet.
Her smile falters for a millisecond, her eyes flash with something you struggle to discern.
“Ava’s sleeping,” You continue. “But if you two haven't broken up by the time I drop her off next week, you can give her a hug then.”
More silence. It's awkward. It always is when Hazel comes around.
You catch Sevika’s gaze once more. She tongues her cheek, glaring at you with eyes of steel.
You’re being a bitch.
Hazel clears her throat, not knowing what to say.
You hate to admit that it seems like a victory somehow.
That’s when you open your car door, desperately wanting to escape.
You feel like you’re suffocating.
You ignore the (small) stomach drop in embarrassment at the way your door squeaks (when was the last time you greased the hinges?) and instead purse your lips.
“I can pick her up next week,” Sevika mutters. “I’ll be on that side of town anyways, so it’ll probably be easier.”
“Okay.”
You climb into your car, grimacing at the warm surface of your leather seats. You sit your purse down in the passenger seat, turning around to glance at Ava. She’s still sound asleep, shoulders rising and falling with each puff of air. The hard exterior of your heart momentarily fades. You’d do anything for her to forever be this peaceful.
Your engine rumbles as it turns on, the slight hum of the radio filling the speakers while you click your seatbelt into place. Meanwhile, you’re well aware that Hazel is already walking in the opposite direction towards the house. You’re well aware that this is because of you.
You make a mental note to bring up today’s events in your next therapy session.
Sevika lingers behind, approaching your car like a gloomy cloud on a sunny day.
“Whatever the fuck that was,” She snaps. “You don’t get to do it again.”
You hate that she’s right.
Your heart constricts and a lump in your throat begins to form.
You hate her.
You hate everything about this.
“I get it,” You finally respond, swallowing thickly. “Sorry.”
“I’m serious,” She adds. “You don’t get to do this. Not after…” She trails off and you flinch. “I won’t deal with this shit.”
“Okay, Sev. I know. I’m sorry.” And you are. The overwhelming waves of guilt always seem to hit you when it’s too late.
Granted, Sevika isn’t innocent either. She’s far from innocent. But you know that even after everything that’s happened, you don’t have a right to be like this. She doesn’t deserve it.
“I know you would like her if you tried.” This time, Sevika’s voice has lowered multiple degrees. There’s a slight plea in her voice. It only appears when she’s at her wits’ end.
“Is she like,” Another deep breath. “...Is it serious with her?”
She doesn’t immediately answer. She first studies your face profoundly, as if she’s searching for any sign of disingenuous intent.
You can’t help but notice how she smells–the familiar scent that surrounds you is something that you could practically identify in your sleep.
Sweat trickles down the sides of her face, down her neck, dampening the cloth of her tank top. Her shoulders gleam with a thin sheen of perspiration. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, away from her face, but a few tendrils have still managed to escape.
The humidity has the same effect on you but you doubt you look as good as she does.
And despite your familiarity with Sevika’s features, you notice that there’s something different about her. It’s become more visible within the last month.
Although her interactions towards you are consistently hostile, you have been able to detect the life in her gaze throughout the last few weeks. She frowns less. And her face is a bit slimmer; a telltale sign that she’s back in the gym.
From time-to-time, you find yourself scrolling through Sevika’s instagram. Usually her feed consists of posts that refer to her mother-daughter dates with Ava (although she’s adamant about not posting your daughter on the web). But there’s a picture in particular that’s been nagging you, in which Hazel is hanging off of Sevika’s side while they stand in front of a body-sized mirror that displays a public gym.
The post has hundreds of likes, thanks to the popular presence that Sevika has online (even though she takes awkward selfies with cheesy captions). You’re sure that almost all sapphics that have access to the digital world are following her. Sevika is, undeniably, the most attractive person you’ve ever met.
So you aren’t shocked by the numerous comments on her latest post, calling her and Hazel extremely hot and couple goals and the ultimate gay awakening.
In fact, you hate that you agree with said comments.
You’re the complete opposite of Hazel, after all.
A gym date would have never been your reality during the marriage.
“Why can’t you just say that you’re happy for me?” Sevika asks. “That you wish me well?”
You should be able to say that.
Ideally, you should want that.
You were childhood sweethearts after all; lovers for over a decade. Wives.
And before everything got worse, before it all truly turned to shit, that’s what you both agreed on.
When the divorce was finalized and the split custody was granted, you two had vowed to still support each other–to still cheer each other on. To still be happy for one another. Because there was too much history, too many shared memories and years and it was all too important to just throw it away for the sake of being petty.
You don’t know how you both got so off-track.
You don’t know how everything completely dissipated in 3 years.
You don’t know if you’d ever be able to fathom this outcome.
But as you sit there looking at Sevika, you do know that whatever she’s doing–it’s working for her. Whether it truly has something to do with Hazel, or whether she’s trying to turn a new leaf, it’s showing. She looks healthier.
She looks happier.
Your eyes burn and begin to flutter. You clasp your hands together, squeezing them whilst they rest in your lap.
Like always, she notices.
Her lips part, a simple action that calls your attention like blaring alarm bells. Her cupid's bow is quite pronounced, a tantalizing feature of her full lips. “Hey,” And she tilts her head, approaching closer.
“Does she make you happy?”
There’s a glint of bewilderment in her eyes. She blinks slowly, shaking her head in a cautious manner. The seconds tick by with apprehension, as if the air itself is questioning your motives. “...I don’t…what?”
“Does she make you happy?”
Her brows furrow. You can hear how hollow her breathing is. She looks at you quizzically. “Hazel’s… good for me.”
You wait for her to say something more, anything at this point, but she doesn’t.
Hazel’s good for me.
The wind picks up again, a cool breeze meeting your cheeks as nearby trees join the conversation with the sound of dancing leaves.
Hazel’s good for me.
“Well,” The nails of your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms. “Then I’m happy for you.” A half truth. Your voice warbles but you're able to say it with enough conviction. “And I wish you well.”
Those eyes of hers…
They search and search and search.
You aren’t sure what she’s looking for.
You aren’t even sure why she’s reacting like this–or how you expect her to act after saying such a thing.
In fact–why did you say any of it?
Almost as if Sevika bursts an imaginary bubble, she takes a step backwards. Then two.
Subconsciously, your shoulders relax. It’s difficult to inhale air that reminds you of her.
She shakes her head slightly as she tears her eyes from you; as if she’s trying to recenter herself.
Your throat clears. The moment is gone. Reality reminds you of where you are and how you got here.
“Take care, Sev.” Is all you can say.
You back out of the driveway, which is an annoyingly long pathway. Then you’re clutching the steering wheel, tears streaming down your cheeks as you drive away.
summary: in which you and sevika are divorced. read part one here, part two here and part four here.
word count: 9239
this chapter is hefty but the chapters after this will have less angst and more of the good stuff (a.k.a fluff & smut).
thanks for reading!
~~~
As patient as she always is, Grayson sits beside you on the bathroom floor. For a while, it’s hard to focus on what she’s saying. The low hum of her voice appears to be white noise.
And then, slowly, her words travel to you and take root in your brain.
“You know we’re all here for you both, right?” Grayson mutters. Your head rests on her left shoulder, breath struggling to even due to your hiccups. “Ava knows that you two love her. There’s no doubt about that. And I’m not saying that you’re not capable of doing this alone. But you don’t always have to do it alone. We’re family.”
You nod smally, desperately wanting her reassurance to take effect. However, a lingering doubt still exists within you because no matter how many times you’ve heard these words from Mel, Gert and Grayson, it’s difficult for you to imagine a day where you don’t feel as if your life is burdensome to them. How could you possibly lean on them and not feel an overwhelming sense of guilt? They have their own life to deal with–their own marriage and daughter to look after.
“So,” Grayson continues. “Let Mel and I take Ava home. She can have a sleepover with Lianna, the perfect birthday surprise…I’ll even let you take the credit for it.” She nudges you with her elbow and you struggle to suppress a snort. “It gives you time to recover for the night and get some re-”
You begin to shake your head, “You know I can’t ask that of you guys.”
A part of you expects Grayson to insist, like all of the other times before. This isn’t the first instance where she’s suggested babysitting Ava while you get your shit together. However, this is the first time where you actually feel tempted to say yes.
Instead, though, Grayson doesn’t probe. She remains silent, seemingly in deep thought. Your heart rate picks up in response and you can’t help but count the seconds as they tick by.
Maybe you’re being a tad bit unreasonable. Maybe this is the time where you’re supposed to let go of your pride–to allow someone, other than Sevika, to help you. But it’s hard to say yes when your brain is reminding you of all the reasons you should say no.
“You remember when Mel and I broke up? And you let me crash at your place?”
Your brain drags back to that summer which was nearly over a decade ago. A younger version of you, happy and hopeful for the future, was surprised when Grayson showed up on your doorstep. She had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, eyes bloodshot and face distraught. You offered your home without hesitation. Sevika was stunned when she came home from work later that night. But of course, with Grayson being her best friend, she didn’t mind.
“I had convinced myself we would get back together,” Grayson continued. “I was delusional. I didn’t want to accept it. I couldn’t bring myself to admit how badly I fucked up and that I truly lost her. And even though I assured you that I just needed a week, you didn’t mind when it turned into two weeks…then a month…then four.”
You would be lying if you didn’t think that Grayson had been delusional during that year. After her and Mel broke up, she was the most distraught you had ever seen her. But you knew the severity of the situation and you knew Mel like the back of your hand–once she makes her mind up about something, she rarely backtracks. So, despite what Grayson had wanted to believe, you knew that she would need a place to stay for much longer than a week.
“Helping me get back on my feet, never charging me rent, always being there to listen to me–despite the endless support you were also giving Mel? I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you. And yet you were so gracious. And you never made me feel unwelcome or unloved. Neither you or Sevika.”
Since Grayson and Mel’s life was so intertwined, it was hard for Grayson to start over. You insisted that she save all of her money because you and Sevika truly didn’t need any of it. Two weeks after their breakup, you secretly bought and installed a futon for her in the living room while she and Sevika were running errands (because you knew Grayson would not accept the gesture otherwise). 6 months after the breakup, you and Sevika took Grayson out to a celebration dinner for signing her lease to an apartment (a huge milestone considering the incredible depression that the breakup had triggered). And for another year you had to learn how to support and love your two friends–Grayson and Mel–separately again; that is, until they eventually got back together.
“I would do it all over again if you needed,” You reply, refocusing your attention to the present. “It’s what friends do.”
“It’s what families do.” Grayson murmurs.
And there it is–that annoying feeling of being stupefied.
“I’ve watched you try to bear almost everything alone. Even when we were kids and especially throughout your marriage with Sev. Especially throughout the divorce and up until now. But that’s not a life worth living. We all need help sometimes. It’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s what makes us human. So, I need you to not take offense when I say this. After all, I’m here–sitting on this cold ass floor–because I love you.” She clears her throat, voice wavering with emotion. “Mel and I will take Ava home. I’ll tell Ava that you wanted to surprise her and she’ll love you for it. She’ll have the best sleepover ever with Lianna, which she will remember fondly years from now. And you’ll be here with Gert, getting a well-deserved break and taking care of yourself. There's a ton of pizza to be had and I’ll make sure Gert buys you that horrible tea you seem to love. The night will pass and tomorrow will come. And a new day will be ahead of you.”
“Grayson, I-”
“And I won’t accept any future apology that I already know you’re trying to make.”
You try to blink away your tears, rolling your eyes at how predictable you can be.
You want to say thank you, but what comes out instead is, “Gert shouldn’t have to give up her night to babysit me. I’m capable of having a night alone, Gray. I’ll schedule an emergency session with my therapist for tomorrow morning and I should be settled enough afterwards to pick Ava up–”
“You shouldn’t be alone tonight, whether or not you decide to have a session tomorrow.”
You know that Grayson is right. A night without another human present would just lead to you crying on the sofa while watching ridiculous rom-coms. It was a solo activity that you always did when feeling sad. Your friends occasionally teased you about it and Mel had even joined you a few times. But you can tell that Grayson won’t budge on this. She can be irritatingly stubborn.
“You must have Ava facetime me before bedtime.”
“Of course-”
“Seriously. I need to sing to her before she sleeps. It's…our thing.”
Only then is when Grayson’s lips quirk up into a ghost of a smile. “Okay.”
***
The grainy reflection of your therapist, Felicia, stares at you. She’s a pretty woman–purple hair swept into a french braid, eyebrows perfectly arched and silver orbs swirling with quiet understanding.
She’s one of the few people that you’ve felt comfortable truly opening up to, which was initially surprising considering how hesitant you were to start therapy in the first place. You have learned many things from her over the course of two years. But moments like last night sometimes make you fear that there is still so much work to be done.
“So, you finally made a breakthrough with Sevika,” Felicia states. There’s no underlying emotion laced in her words. She’s always great at simply stating the facts and allowing you to do the rest.
However, you can’t help but wince because breakthrough isn’t the word you’d ever use.
“I think, although it’s important to reflect on how to better approach conversations like last night,” Felicia continues. “It’s important for us to also look at the positives. Expressing your feelings is something that was long overdue. You must feel at least an ounce of relief.”
It’s true. You do feel a tad bit lighter despite the fact that you just instigated one of your worst arguments with Sevika on the night of your daughter’s birthday. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that Felicia has been urging you to do this for over a year now. Once you finally opened up to her about the events leading up to your divorce and the messy aftermath, she immediately suggested that you sit down and have a transparent conversation with Sevika (which is an idea you’ve been adamantly rejecting). You had always felt that there was no reason to bring up the past. That what’s done is done; that you shouldn’t despair because you can’t turn back time.
But it was obvious that avoiding such a confrontation was impossible. You had let it all fester until it blew up.
“...And this should open up a dialogue with her that you’ve been waiting for.” Felicia adds, sending you a supportive smile.
“Dialogue isn’t really my thing,” You respond, wrinkling your nose. “Plus, there’s not much else to say or do. I’m pretty sure she hates me now, if she didn’t already.”
Felicia’s eyebrows furrow. She regards you for a moment, deep in thought.
“Whether or not she’s upset with you, the dialogue will happen one way or another. You can decide to keep suppressing yourself until you explode again sometime in the future, which you know I will never recommend. Or you can take this as an opportunity to get a better understanding of each other. The conversation doesn’t have to end in you two being friends again–or anything of the like–since that’s not always a realistic expectation. But if you decide to fully lay things out on the table, you’ll walk away from the discussion being heard and gaining closure. You’ll at least improve your co-parenting relationship and I think it will finally give you permission to begin moving on.”
Moving on.
Closure.
Understanding.
You’re filled with a sense of deja vu, brain backtracking to your first few sessions with Felicia. The sentiment of trying to get to your next chapter post-divorce and desperately wanting to become friends again with Sevika… that was all you were able to ruminate about during those hard months after the split. You were constantly thinking about all those conversations (and lack thereof) that occurred during those last months of marriage; how you felt like she had checked out and that she wasn’t present with you. That disconnect that occured between you and Sevika–which younger you never thought could possibly happen–was what you always struggled with the most. Somehow, no matter what other topics you talked to Felicia about, the sessions constantly seemed to circle back to this; even years later.
And, like always, Felicia ensured that you could sort these feelings out; that your questions could be answered. All you had to do was start the conversation. But starting such a conversation with Sevika meant that you would have to hear what she would say in return. You would have to listen to her perspective as well, and why she did what she did during the last moments before the divorce.
And you weren’t sure you were ready for that. You weren’t sure if you ever would be.
Sevika had become harder to read in the last few years. She rarely let her walls down for you unless it involved her expressing anger. You didn’t know what to expect if you sat down with her and asked, “What did we do for it to all go wrong?”
And that uncertainty was scary.
So, yeah. You spent years trying to take the divorce in stride. You had tried to put on a facade and avoided starting such a conversation with Sevika–despite Felicia’s opinion–because time had passed. Because you convinced yourself that there was no point in crying over spilled milk. And even in moments you stupidly thought it might be good to take Felicia’s advice, Sevika’s accumulating list of girlfriends always brought you back to reality.
But obviously, the way you’ve decided to go about things has come to bite you in the ass. Because here you are, experiencing one of the first lows that you’ve had in a long while, on an impromptu Zoom therapy session while your best friends babysit your daughter.
Prior to yesterday, you thought that you were finally getting your shit together. The universe always did a wonderful job at proving you wrong.
“Just think about it,” Felicia concludes. “I’m sure she has unanswered questions too.”
Before you can spiral about the idea of Sevika possibly wanting closure, Felicia is already moving on. “You mentioned that Grayson and Mel had Ava for the night?”
Your right hand falls to your left wrist, twiddling with a bead bracelet that Ava had made you not too long ago.
You were afraid to admit it but you did think that Grayson was right about you needing a night to relax. You ended up watching two hilarious rom-coms with Gert, eating pizza and drinking your favorite tea she bought you (despite your demands for her not to) before she affectionately wished you goodnight and went home. You didn’t know how much you needed that time with Gert, someone who always brought you comfort no matter your mood, until the night was already over and you were peacefully laying in bed. Grayson was annoying and oftentimes too honest. But God, that woman was smart.
“I kept telling her that she didn’t have to,” You defended. “I don’t want her to feel like her and Mel always have to come swooping in and save me from things, you know? Like…I would have been able to continue on with Ava’s party and really give her a great birthday memory. I just needed to recollect myself first.”
“Do you feel like you burden them? Mel and Grayson?”
Your eyes widen as you stare at Felicia incredulously. “Are you kidding? Of course.”
“Have they told you that? Or does their actions, in any way, show that they feel like that?”
“No. But–”
“Do you think that they are unable to express how they feel towards you?”
You blink a few times, frowning. “Of course not.”
“So, why do you think you feel this way?”
And as you struggle to come to any other conclusion, you hand tugs harder at your bracelet.
Because, surely, it’s a simple question you should be able to answer.
But…you can’t.
“And, as you stated earlier, you’d never come to a point where you let anyone other than myself or your ex support you, so I can understand why this unfamiliar territory may be uncomfortable. But I think we should talk about support systems for a second.” Felicia pauses, taking a swig of her water bottle while you try to process all that she is saying. “There may be a time where we’ll reach a plateau and you’ll have gained all the necessary tools you need from me. There may be a time where you might not ever feel inclined to seek therapy anymore. And you’ll need a support system, outside of medical services, for that. Even when my clients are in therapy, I always try to talk to them about building foundational relationships with loved ones; creating community is just as vital as all the other things we’ve been working on.”
A heavy exhale leaves you. Of course you understood what she meant. Mel, Grayson and Sevika had been your family for over 20 years.
“You don’t always have to go through everything alone,” Felicia’s voice was much softer now. “You have these people, this family, that wants you to lean on them. It doesn’t have to be every time. But life happens and it’s a lot easier to have people pull you up when you’ve been knocked down. I’m sure there’s been times where the roles have been reversed and you’ve been there for them. You have people that desperately want to love you. So let them.”
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s annoying how great you are at this?”
Felicia laughs, crinkles appearing around her eyes. You can’t help but smile.
Then the moment is interrupted when your phone lights up. “Speaking of Grayson, I think she just texted. I have to go soon.”
Felicia nods, “Okay.”
***
“Can we get this? Please?”
You’re slow to look away from the shelf of milk cartons you had been staring at.
Had the price spiked another 50 cents?
When you finally drag your gaze to Ava, you find her pressing her pointer finger against another glass door. You were in the freezer section of the store, trying to take advantage of the cooling temperature due to the current heatwave in town.
That’s when you find that the object of Ava’s interest is an entire shelf of orange cream popsicles.
Upon the realization, your heart drops to your stomach. You peer back at Ava who remains hopeful and expecting. Her round brown eyes are devastating.
“It’s summer!” She pleads, as if that's an explanation within itself.
And it is.
Because you know exactly what she means.
Your jaw falls slack, eyes darting back to the frozen treat.
There’s another churn to your stomach followed by an onslaught of memories.
“Just a box for now,” You respond. Your voice is tight, choking around the sentence as you step forward and open the glass door.
That’s enough for Ava to break out into a cheerful dance, hands pumping up in fists as she jumps around. The sight of it is powerful enough to recenter you. You crack a smile, laughing in slight disbelief.
Ava’s celebration attracts the attention of nearby shoppers as they pass by. You shake your head, grabbing her hand as you walk further down the aisle.
“Did you like the string cheese I bought the time before?” You question, skimming the aisle for any nearby carts to steal. You tried to readjust the loaf of bread and popsicles in your arm, but it was uncomfortable considering that you were using your other hand to hold Ava’s.
“It was okay but I like other things now. Lianna gets these cashews from Auntie Mel and they are so good. Have you ever heard of cashews, Mommy?”
You suppress a laugh, deciding to humor your daughter anyways. You had heard of how much the girls enjoyed the new snack based on what Mel texted you.
“Yes, I’ve heard of them before.”
Ava looks at you with wider eyes, as if the idea of you hearing about the common treat was groundbreaking. It’s always endearing to realize how small her world is. Your heart tugs at the idea that it won’t be like this forever.
You squeeze her hand, steering her through another aisle as you shoot her a wider smile.
“I always love having them with fruit.” You explain. “I can buy us some today, how does that sound?”
Her lips part and form into an O, wonder etching onto her features.
You’re about to respond again, clearly finding Ava’s current cashew-nut obsession entertaining, when instead a gasp leaves you.
Your body collides into something hard, causing you to nearly lose your balance.
“Oh my god,” You manage to say. The loaf of bread and popsicles slip out of your arm and onto the ground. Clearly dazed, you first look at your daughter–immediately making sure that she’s okay.
Unexpectedly, you watch as she gasps, eyebrows raising before a round of giggles erupt. “Mama!” She cries, clearly elated. “What are you doing here?”
And that alone causes your head to snap forward.
Fuck.
This is not exactly what you’d been expecting when taking Ava to the store. But it seemed like the universe always bombarded you with moments that made your head spin.
Being here in front of Sevika–who you just embarrassingly bumped into–was your fault anyways. You should have been more aware of where you were leading your daughter. It had only been a small moment that you weren’t looking forward. But apparently it was the moment that counted.
Sevika, dressed in a burgundy henley and black slacks, makes you feel hyper aware of your polka dot matching loungewear that you and Ava are wearing. You don’t get much time to think about anything else because Sevika isn’t even looking at you. Instead, she crouches down, welcoming her daughter in a tight hug before picking her up. You take that as a moment to regain your bearings, focusing your attention on picking up your bread and popsicle box. You curse yourself quietly when you see the slight tremble in your hands.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Ava announces, giggling again. Her voice is slightly muffled due to how tightly she embraces Sevika.
“Well of course I’m here,” Sevika mutters, her voice a smooth hum. It’s incredibly gentle, a characteristic that only Ava can truly bring out of her. “This is the best store in town.”
It’s when you’re straightening your posture and re-adjusting your groceries to your other arm when Sevika looks at you.
After the explosive night that occurred a few days ago, you had yet to reach out to her. You hadn’t been sure what it would be like to see her face again and although you knew that it had to be soon, you were hoping it wouldn’t be until the next drop-off day.
But here she is, in the flesh, with Ava in her arms.
Her expression is unreadable, eyes measuring you with an intensity you hadn’t yet been prepared for. She hikes Ava higher up in her arms, biceps flexing from the action.
“We got creamsicles!” Ava interjects, sitting up so that she can point to the box in your arms.
You shift your weight immediately. Sevika’s gaze trails down your face, nearly taking forever before they land on the ice-cold box in the crook of your arm. You swallow, trying not to remember all of your summers with her; summers filled with her endearing habit of evening bbq’s. Summers where you’d tease her about her love for eating creamsicles on the beach, even though you loved them just as much.
And now your daughter is so similar to her. Adopting habits and cravings and sayings that you thought you had left behind when the divorce had been finalized.
You try to force yourself to say something–to say anything that would stop you from feeling so stupid. But you can only stare back.
“You can never go wrong with those,” Sevika finally says. Her sentence is directed more towards Ava but her eyes never leave yours.
Your brain jumps to Ava’s birthday a few days ago, when Sevika had been visibly wrecked by your confession.
You don’t have the strength to verbally acknowledge the guilt you have from that night. Not so soon after the fact, and not in the middle of the grocery store.
But, for a small second, you allow it to hit you. And you know that she sees it.
For a moment, you almost convince yourself to apologize right then. Washed over with thick emotion, your lips part and your eyes burn, and your heart hammers erratically inside of your chest.
Body reacting faster than your brain can register, you step forward. Your free hand reaches for Sevika, one wounded human to another, before you rest it on her forearm, holding it there. Your attention falls to the point of contact, your skin pressed against hers in a simple act that one wouldn’t usually feel so moved by. But you know that’ll never be the case for you.
Your thumb caresses her skin in small sweeps; your nervous system oddly comforted by something that should feel foreign now, especially after all the time that’s passed.
There’s a small hitch of breath, which snaps you out of your daze. Your eyes dart back up to her and you clear your throat.
“You’re acting funny,” Ava says, on the brink of another round of giggles as she looks at you.
And yes, you probably were because you sure as hell felt funny.
“Are you coming home with us, Mama?” Ava asks. “We have a movie night!”
“Is that so?” Swiftly, Sevika presses a kiss against Ava’s temple. Your hand drops back to your side.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had one. So…” You explain, finally mustering up enough courage to say something. “We’re getting snacks.” You hold up your loaf of bread and popsicles, shaking them as a forced awkward titter leaves you.
Oh God.
Sevika quirks an eyebrow, “Bread and Creamsicles,” She states dryly.
“And cashews!” Ava cheers.
Sevika’s lip twitches and her eyes flash. If you hadn’t been staring so intently you’d have probably missed it. But you definitely saw it: a sign that you hadn’t completely turned her stone-cold.
“As…interesting as that combination sounds,” Sevika begins. “I do have to go soon.”
As expected, Ava groans in disappointment. She always likes to have both you and Sevika in her presence.
You allow your daughter to say goodbye to Sevika. They embrace in another tight hug, Sevika whispering something to her before kissing her cheek. Then, she’s crouching to the ground so that the 5-year old can walk back to you.
In an attempt to end the lulling silence, you say, “Well, if you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.”
She seems to sober at your words, head tilting as a careful expression fills her features.
You chew the inside of your cheek, beginning to regret the invitation as fast as it came out.
You break her gaze, finding interest in the tile floors. God, you aren’t good at this. You never have been.
Something grazes your cheek, so soft that you think that you’re imagining it.
But then it happens again.
The third time is firmer, knuckles brushing the apple of your cheek before falling to your jawline.
Your eyebrows knit together as you take one last look at Sevika, alarmed by her fleeting touch. She allows her hand to linger against your jawline for a few more moments, watching you watch her. Her stormy irises hold a flicker of curiosity in them.
You want to tell her how sorry you are. That you don’t know how everything got so off-track but clearly things needed to be sorted out. That you missed her. That you couldn’t get over her, no matter how much you tried. That she still felt like your home. That you were angry with her because you yearned and ached for her. That she was with you everywhere you went. That because you had lost her, you had lost everything.
But instead, you say, “We need to talk,” Slightly breathless. “...Whenever you’re free. Just you and I.”
An employee makes a muffled announcement on the overhead speaker before the sound of a Maroon 5 song resumes.
“I was just about to say that.” Her lip twitches. “I think it’s long overdue, no?”
Blinking through a puzzled daze, you observe the way her eyes flicker over your features. You struggle to fathom that you were just screaming at each other a few days prior. It was confusing to see how much a dynamic could change after a single conversation. You knew that things wouldn’t quite be the same after Ava’s birthday party. You had said too much and the gravity of your words had reached Sevika, that much you knew. But you weren’t sure how things would change exactly.
Her index finger hooks and swiftly brushes your chin. It’s barely even a touch and reminds you of the habit from all those years ago–one of her many affectionate gestures that she would display in passing. “Take care.” She whispers.
She gives Ava one more goodbye kiss and then she walks away.
***
“Hello?” You answer, your voice groggy from just waking up.
“Are you ignoring me?” Your mother replies, not missing a beat. She has a smile on her face despite the accusation though.
You let out a snort. “No,” But then you allow your brain to track the timeframe it’s been since the last time you’ve talked to her (outside of text message check-ins). Shit. It definitely had been a while. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve just had a lot going on.” You sit up in bed so that you can comfortably rest against your headboard.
As always, your mom looks perfectly presentable for the day. Considering the differing time-zones that you both resided in, you could confidently assume that she has been up for a few hours already. Her lips sport a bold red, cheeks covered with blush and mascara coated on her lashes. The background behind her looks familiar and you quickly observe that she’s in her living room.
Your mom nods, slow to respond as she surveys you.
“You know I’m not the prying type,” She begins. “But I can already tell that–”
“Mom.” You groan, eyes closing for a split second. “Not today. Please.”
“You always know that you can tell me anything, Hun.”
A drag of silence…
You chew on your lip with relentless fatigue and gnawing guilt.
“And…well, I did talk to Mel a bit. Initially just to get details about her vow renewal but then, naturally, we started talking about you and I know she didn’t want to say too much but…”
Your hand grips your phone due to rising panic. What could Mel have possibly said? There's so much that has occurred since the last time you updated your mom. There was Ava’s birthday, of course, which she sent a birthday text for (and in return you texted your mom a thank you video of you and Ava). But there had also been the topic of your promotion, and Hazel, and the petty drama that had been occurring between you and Sevika which led to the quarrel.
And then there was yesterday. God, you still didn't know how to wrap your brain around it. The running into Sevika at the store, and then the weird energy looming that you still couldn't shake. Why did you invite her to your movie date with Ava? Why did you find it so hard to form proper sentences? Why did you stand so close to her?
Why did she let you?
“What did Mel say?” You ask. “Like what did she specifically tell you?”
Your mom pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something she shouldn't be telling me?”
“No!” Clearing your throat, you press your free hand against your chest, trying to calm your heart rate. “No,” You repeat, this time more slowly. “I was just curious.”
“Right,” Your mom’s eyes glinted knowingly. “Well,” She continues, voice dropping into her typical vocal fry. “She didn't say much. I could tell she was filtering herself…which meant that I definitely needed to reach out to you. She told me you and Sev were working through some things, but that it was going to be okay.”
Your shoulders relax as you exhale. “Well, Sev and I are always kind of working through things.” You force out a chuckle, trying your best to shove your ex to the back of your mind. You just wanted one day where you didn't have to think about her.
“And nothing else is going on?”
Nothing else worth mentioning.
But for some reason, you hesitate in replying. Because something surely is going on. Within you, within Sevika, and definitely between you and her. You just don't really understand it. What you do know is that something changed between you two on the night of Ava’s birthday party, and the dynamic that you had grown accustomed to post-divorce has seemed to shift altogether.
When your mom realizes that you aren't going to answer, she instead asks, “Is Sev okay?”
And your nose wrinkles at that because your mom would know before anyone if Sevika wasn't. Growing up, Sevika not only became close with you but also your mom.When the divorce was finalized, you constantly reminded them that you hoped they still kept in contact; that you didn't want the split to negatively impact the only semblance of a mother-figure that Sevika had left.
Even to this day, they communicate more consistently than you do with your mom. But even when you and Sevika were together, that had always been the case.
“I don't know, shouldn't you be asking her that?” You say, frowning.
Your mom shrugs. “She tells me she's okay. But I don't know, Hun. I talked to her last night and things were just…off.”
Your frown deepens. “Really?”
“It's nothing to be worried about too much. She was just quieter than usual, is all. She seemed like she had something on her mind.”
You backtrack to yesterday, trying to wrack through all the details of Sevika’s features.
Your body warms at the memory of her caressing your face, standing merely inches away from you. Why the fuck did that happened?
You’re sure you’ll go crazy if you keep ruminating about yesterday.
“But that's enough of that. I guess the more pressing question on my mind,” Your mom snaps her finger as she begins reaching for something off camera. “I booked a flight that’ll have me arrive in town the day before Mel’s renewal ceremony. Are you okay with me staying at your place? It’ll be a fun girls weekend with Ava. We can plan a bunch of things!”
***
You stare down at the coffee art before you, pressing your palms against the warm porcelain mug. You try counting to 50 again as adrenaline continues to course through your veins.
“God,” You mumble, exhaling shakily. “We’re really doing this.”
It had been 3 days since you’ve last seen Sevika, which happened to be when you were dropping Ava off at her house for the week. And it was only early this morning when you had finally gained enough courage to text: When are you free so that we can talk? You hadn’t expected her to answer so quickly but she did about 15 minutes later. And, surprisingly, she suggested a timeframe during this evening.
So here you are, sitting in a coffee shop that you hadn’t been in ages, expecting her to arrive at any moment. You had mentioned this specific shop because you remember it being Sevika’s favorite throughout the marriage.
“Sorry,” The chair across from you scrapes against the floor while being pulled away from the table. “Have you been waiting long?” Sevika sits down swiftly, her breath slightly labored.
You notice that her hair is pulled into a half-up-half down hairstyle. A few strands have escaped, framing her temples perfectly. The grey of her eyes are enhanced by a layer of eyeliner with lips that slightly gleam due to a moisturizer. Her sculpted arms are on full display thanks to her muscle-tank, which appears to be a faded band tee.
You draw in a breath, wondering if she has any idea the effect that she has on people when wearing eyeliner like that.
Her dark eyes wait for you to respond–so present and so affixed.
“Um,” You clear your throat, looking back at your cup of coffee. “No, not long.”
Needing something to do, you take a sip of the beverage, wincing at how unexpectedly sweet it is. Too much creamer.
“How are you?” You add.
“Okay. And you?”
“Okay.” You pause. “And Ava?”
“She’s well, yeah. She’s with Gert.”
You nearly chuckle at the idea, only imagining how that could be going. Ava has a tendency to boss Gert around, whether it be dressing up or impromptu karaoke or even Disney marathons. Gert didn’t seem to mind but it was always hilarious to see.
“She misses you too,” Sevika continues, voice growing softer. “She always does but more lately, I’ve noticed.”
Your heart warms at the thought. You always felt off during the weeks you didn’t have Ava. Drop off days never got easier. But you’re sure that Sevika must feel the same whenever you have her.
“Did you not want anything?” You gesture to the menu at the end of the table.
“I’m okay. I ate not too long ago.”
A group of friends burst into laughter behind you. You saw them when you first walked inside and they seemed to be about 10 years your junior, maybe college kids.
The few times you had been here with Sevika, you always remember there being a younger crowd. A community college was located a few blocks away so it was definitely within walking distance. You’ve never had a desire to go to college but you did wish that you had experienced what it was like to have a local hang-out spot like this shop when you were younger. Your hometown was quite small and there weren’t many places to congregate besides church.
“Where did we go wrong?” Sevika questions, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your gaze returns to her and you notice that she’s leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on the table and hands clasped together. She inspects you with unadulterated curiosity. “I know I had been distant with the funeral and the…grief.”
You grimace, eyes closing on your own accord.
You often tried to block out those dark days. Sevika had been a wreck. She took the death of your father hard. You truly believe that you had grieved his death before it happened. When he announced that he didn’t want to take chemo treatments anymore, you knew that was the beginning of the end. Sevika, on the other hand, had been in complete denial. She even convinced herself that if she showed him the beauty of life again, he’d change his mind. But he didn’t.
When he passed, you were relieved that he wasn’t in pain anymore. Of course it still hurt but you felt that it was manageable.
Sevika, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to even get out of bed. She fell into a dark depression, barely eating, barely speaking. It was hard. You hadn’t known how to support her, you hadn’t known how to do anything. Sevika had always been the one to deal with crises better.
Then you had a miscarriage, which already was a fear of yours due to your struggle with fertility. You having Ava felt like a miracle and when you had become pregnant again, it felt too good to be true.
Your eyes begin to sting as you open them, shaking your head as you say, “We were too young, Sev.”
“Were we really?” Worry lines appear on her forehead. “I refuse to believe that’s the reason. I never doubted marrying you. I never thought there would be a possibility that we’d divorce.”
God, this is the last thing you need to be hearing.
You blink rapidly in response to your blurry vision, wanting desperately for the aching tugs on your heart to cease. You had felt the same too. Your wedding day had always been one of the happiest days of your life, with Ava’s birth being the first. Younger you would constantly annoy Mel with your belief that Sevika was your true love. In turn, Mel would laugh and accuse you of being a hopeless romantic.
This turn of events would have been described as your worst nightmare a decade ago.
“I’m sorry,” Sevika whispers, her voice cracking. “I need you to know that. I know I was grieving Archie’s death and that it made me impossible. I was drowning. I was hurting and I was so blinded by that hurt that I couldn’t remember you were grieving him too.”
It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, tears streaming down your cheeks as she reaches forward and grabs your hands. Her eyes never leave yours and the sight of her tear-stricken expression is devastating.
“I felt like I lost you.” You respond. “I wanted to help you. I wanted to be there for you and you didn’t let me. I was begging you to let me in. But it just got worse. After the miscarriage, I couldn’t reach you.”
Despair rips through you at the memory. There were times where you and Sevika didn’t speak to each other for days. The both of you would alternate caring for Ava every day, but you often found yourself sleeping with Ava in her room once night would come, not being able to bear Sevika’s silence any longer.
The first crucial argument you had with Sevika was 2 weeks after your miscarriage (which had been a total of 6 weeks post your father’s funeral). She would help you whenever you needed, since the miscarriage had been a lot on your body, but mentally she wasn’t present. It was like someone had come and abducted the soul of your wife, leaving you with a corpse.
Sevika squeezes her eyes shut, head hanging as she registers your words. She continues to firmly grasp your hands, as if she’s afraid of you somehow disappearing.
“And I was so hurt and so angry with you,” You choke. “When you came back around, I wasn’t ready to fix us.” It had been another month before Sevika started trying to mend the wounds, with considerable help from Mel, Grayson and Gert. They even convinced her to start therapy. “I spent months trying to be there and support you, which you never let me do. But the moment our friends intervened, you listened to them. And I hated you for that. I was so angry. I couldn’t understand how they could get through to you and I couldn’t. On top of that, it felt like you blamed me for the miscarriage. That destroyed me.”
Despite Sevika’s progress and determination to get better, there had been no going back for you. The pair of you had never been the same. You stopped sleeping in the same bed as her permanently, taking residence in the guest bedroom instead. You remember her trying the most during that time but your resistance eventually wore her down. You both had become short tempered and strangers to one another despite living in the same house.
When discussing this time of your life with Felicia, she suggested that it might have been helpful to enlist in relationship therapy and for you to have started your own individual therapy sessions as well. She had talked about grief and mental health causing marriages to spiral.
“I want you to work on not beating yourself up about this,” Felicia had said during one of your first sessions with her. “Unfortunately, this happens to couples more than you would think.”
“I felt ashamed,” Sevika explains. “I felt ashamed and embarrassed that I had been so in denial about Archie. And I was upset with myself for being so upset–I felt like I didn’t have a right to be. He was your father, not mine. And I didn’t want to tell you that…I didn’t know how without feeling like I was burdening you. And we were also under the stress of planning the funeral. I just felt like it was best keeping everything to myself. Then we lost the baby and I hated myself. I could never blame you. I felt responsible for what happened, that if I hadn’t been so stressful and burdensome for you then maybe…”
“No. The miscarriage wasn’t your fault. I can’t believe you ever thought that,” You shake your head, suppressing a sob. “And your depression wasn’t what bothered me, I just wanted you to talk to me, no matter how heavy or dark you felt. Supporting you wouldn’t have pushed me away. I just hated that you never gave me a chance. I would have borne the entire world on my shoulders if I knew it would bring you peace.”
A choked exhale leaves Sevika. You can tell she’s spiraling, you can only imagine all that she’s feeling.
“And you were his daughter too,” Your lips tremble as you duck your head to search for her eyes. She peers at you slowly, eyes bloodshot. “He loved you so so much, Sev. Your grief was and will always be valid.”
You struggle to stop your mind from reeling at all that she’s said. You thought it would be relieving to have the answers to such questions. And even though it partly is, it’s also gut-wrenching.
God, had you known any of this…
If only you knew that this was how she was feeling…
“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” You croak.
She shakes her head, “You had reason to. I did it first.”
There would be nights when Sevika would visit you in the guest room, pleading you to at least talk to her. You would ignore her. Sometimes you would yell.
Once the relationship had reached 5 months of pure hell, you stated, “I’m not happy. I don’t think we should be together anymore,” Over breakfast that she had made.
You’ll never forget the way she choked on her bacon, looking at you with panic-stricken eyes. “W-What?”
“I think we should divorce.”
Secretly, you had wanted her to say something–to say anything–that would deter you. Of course, even uttering the words had hurt you but you didn’t know what else to do.
With the knowledge that you now have, you're sure that those words broke her completely because instead of convincing you otherwise, she simply finished her breakfast in silence, hands trembling, before she stood up and got ready for work.
Later on that day, you had texted her about affordable lawyers if the situation needed one and she left you on read.
You had wanted her to say no, to declare that she loved you and that she would stick through this rough patch with you. For days you waited but none of that occurred.
When you finally filed for the papers and signed them, you had shown her one night when she came home from work. Her reaction had been underwhelming, staring at you for much longer than necessary. You thought she would say something then but she merely turned around and proceeded to climb the staircase.
When you woke up the next morning, she had already left for work. Her signature on the divorce papers was sitting on the dining room table.
“I didn’t know what else to do, Sev.” You explain. “I didn’t know all the things about marriage that I do now. And I was upset with Mom and upset with our friends and upset with the world. All I knew was that Ava deserved better. And when I talked to you about divorcing, I wanted you to stop me. I wanted you to fight me on it, and when you didn’t, I feared that this is something that you actually wanted. I feared that it actually was the end and I had been delusional even thinking you could feel any other way. So I filed for divorce and you hadn’t done anything even then–”
“I didn’t know you still…cared for me,” Sevika finally lets go of your hands, leaning back in her chair as she wipes her cheeks. “I had been fighting for you, and fighting for our marriage and my mental health and you still were so closed off with me. I thought that maybe I deserved it after what you initially had to endure and that you were also struggling due to the miscarriage. I thought that we just had to give it time and that we would warm up to each other again. But then you brought up how unhappy you were and you seemed so…tired. I figured that you had truly given up. I figured that it was a lost cause fighting for someone who didn’t want me anymore.”
You gnaw on your lip, guilt and shame and everything bad rising within you.
The idea of Sevika still wanting you up until the day of the divorce was too much to bear.
“I know it may never happen,” Sevika murmurs, her hands clasping together again. “But is there ever a time that I may earn your forgiveness?”
Your eyes widen, jaw falling slack. “What?”
“I know. Sorry. That was a dumb question. I–”
“I forgave you years ago, Sev.” You search her face frantically, hoping that she’s joking. Is that the reason she thought you were still angry with her? Did she not understand how you truly feel? “That’s not why I’ve been upset with you. I played an equal role in our divorce. It wasn’t just you.”
Her frown deepens. You’re able to hear how heavy her breathing is now..or is it yours? It’s too hard to tell.
“Then…” She swallows thickly, clearly confused. “Why?”
Because I still love you.
Because I wish that I held onto you when I had you.
Because it’s hard knowing that we’ll never be the same ever again.
Because you moved on, because I was stupid enough to file for divorce, because I pushed you away instead of pulling you closer.
Because I can’t turn back time. Because you have Hazel now; because you’ve moved on.
Because, even though you’ve moved on, I still want you–now more than ever.
Your lips part, “It’s been misdirected. I’ve been angry with myself.” The explanation feels good enough. It’s still partly the truth. “That’s not fair to you and I’m sorry. I really am working on it.”
Her head tilts, drinking in all of your features. “Weeks ago, at Ava’s party, you told me that you’d never be happy with me dating someone else. All the things you said about Hazel…was that true?”
You scan your brain on what to say, flipping through all the possible scenarios this conversation could end in. Certainly, you hadn’t prepared for this–atleast, not that she would be so direct.
“Um,” You murmur, wetting your lips.
“Because if it’s true, I’ll admit that it’ll frustrate me...the fact that you don’t want me but also don’t want anyone else to have me.”
You buy yourself time by taking another swig of your coffee. Your right foot taps the tile floor anxiously. Sevika waits patiently for you to reply.
“Is she truly who you want?” You find yourself asking. You can’t bring yourself to speak Hazel’s name. “Like, do you see a future with her?”
It felt masochistic to ask such a question but you needed to know.
“Answer my question first.”
Your nose wrinkles, lashes fluttering. Heaving a sigh, you say, “Yes. Everything I said that night was true.” Two weeks ago you would have denied the truth until you were blue in the face. But lying and pretending is what led you here in the first place. Plus, you really needed to put everything out on the table today, even if it caused you discomfort. You want to start tomorrow with a fresh slate; you need to talk about everything with her and finally be transparent.
You watch her head tilt back as she peers up at the ceiling. A stir of unrest fills you while she contemplates. Her lips roll inwards, nostrils flaring while she returns to sitting upright. There’s beauty in the way her jaw tightens from the movement.
“You could have told me this,” She stresses. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” And although her voice is sharp, you can also hear a layer of hurt too.
You wince. “I was hurt. I was scared. I was,” Your breath stutters. “Angry. I felt like maybe it wouldn’t matter anyway. I mean, it seems like you’ve been moving on. Also it’s been so long, Sev. I thought that maybe it was best to just shut up and do my best to move on too.”
You aren’t the type to drown yourself in other people when it comes to breakups. Quickly after the split though, you spent 4 months hidden in your mom’s apartment, drinking yourself into delirium instead. You had become incredibly helpless and sad. You had disregarded the split custody order from the court and left Ava with Sevika, knowing that she was better off with her. You had reached an all time low, hating yourself and hating everything else in the world.
Sevika finally showed up to your mom’s house one day, dragging you to the bathroom and bathing you. You thought it was some hallucination. She stayed there with you for two weeks, taking you to doctor appointments and nursing you back to health. The detox was the worst. Your mom took care of Ava in the meantime. That time in your life was blurry.
You remember the words of encouragement your Mom whispered to you at the airport. Then she was hugging Ava and Sevika, whispering things to Sevika that you never heard. But you know they were emotional. When you both finally arrived back in town, Sevika asked you to stay with her. But you hadn’t been ready to confront the bleak months in that house that led up to the divorce. So you declined, instead rooming with Gert until you got your shit together and was able to secure an apartment big enough for you and Ava.
Everything involving your split with Sevika had often been too heavy and painful to think about, let alone bring up in a conversation with her. But you knew that you should have done this sooner.
“I don’t see a future with Hazel,” She finally replies. She keeps her gaze lowered, observing the marble tabletop as she traces it with her index finger. “It’s not like that with her. I had wanted it to be for a while but we’ve agreed that it’s better if it remains…casual.”
Casual.
A huff escapes you.
Hazel had been introduced to the friend group. She had met Ava and there’s a few selfies of her now on Sevika’s instagram page (not that you’ve been keeping track). How could that ever be considered casual?
“Well, I didn’t invite you here to talk about Hazel. So as long as you're happy and okay, then that’s what matters.” You state, downing the rest of your coffee. You inhale deeply and for the first time in nearly forever, you feel lighter.
It doesn’t feel hard to exist in front of Sevika. Of course, your body is still struggling to process all that was discussed but you no longer feel paralyzed with affliction.
“Do you ever think we’ll be okay with each other again?” Sevika asks.
“I don’t know but I want to be.”
A pause. Then, “Friends may seem like a longshot but I would love to try to work towards that.”
Your lip twitches, an unexpected flood of relief filling you. Of course, it’s not a solution that you often dream about but it’s better than the way things have been.
And it's certainly better than losing her completely.
Friendship would have to do.
You force a smile, giving her a nod. “I’d love that.”
I’m so excited for the next part of Divorce! Your writing is honestly breathtaking. The way you capture emotions, the depth you give to every scene, every silence, every choice…
I saw someone mention lowkey shipping reader with Grayson, and for a second I thought I was crazy, because I felt the same way! Their connection is just so beautiful. And I’m mad at Mel too. I get it, she’s Sevika’s friend, but she also claims to be the reader’s friend… yet it feels like she never really tried to understand her. Like, the divorce could’ve been avoided. It felt impulsive, but reader wasn’t okay, she was going through so much shit and so was Sevika.
Oh gosh, I’m going through a whirlwind of emotions, feeling super sensitive… I actually cried when reader walked into the old room she used to share with Sevika. Like… how does she love her so much that, for three whole years, she kept the entire room exactly the way it was, even the wedding dress and the makeup, just waiting and wishing for the reader to come back to her? Maybe a love like that will find me and hit me like a truck
Sorry for the text, I yap a lot sometimes
<3
Hi!
Thank you so much for the message. I've really enjoyed reading this. Grayson and Reader's friendship is adorable and I agree, you can tell they really enjoy and support one another. I understand being frustrated with Mel (I was too when writing this story). She's definitely in the wrong!
It makes me very emotional to think about the way that Sevika has preserved not only the house, but also all of the memories and belongings that have accumulated throughout her relationship with reader. I sincerely hope you find a true love as well! ❤️
There's no need to apologize at all. I love hearing what readers are thinking about :)
the scream i scrumpt during the latest divorce sevika chapter i feel FED & i think u said that u dont feel like ur a strong smut writer but i have loved the smut in this story. sevika fucking r's face was everythinglike GOD WHEN tWILL THAT BE ME!!!! that was so hot omg lksdhfadhglahgdah
thank u for always serving us some good hurt & comfort queen<33333
I'm laughing my ass off. This is hilarious. I'm honored that chapter six (especially the smut) has met your expectations :')
