Jane had had her fingers hovering over her keyboard for a good five minutes, and she knew this because she had also been staring at the clock on her computer. She knew she had the words in her head, somewhere, but they weren't coming out. She knew what was blocking her, but she thought this would have ended by now; it had been two months.
“You haven't completely moved on,” her therapist said the next day.
“But I have. I'm okay with this,” Jane insisted.
“Jane, you can both be okay with it and not have completely moved on. Repeated after me: 'I'm divorced.'”
Jane took a long breath through her nose. “I'm divorced.”
“And remember, you and Rafael came to that decision together, which showed tremendous growth. Divorce is a serious thing, but it isn't always bad.”
“It hasn't always felt that way,” Jane admitted. “While I'm not really upset about not being married to Rafael anymore—it's actually been pretty good—but I hear divorce, my second divorce, and I just feel sick.”
“I don't want to feel that way anymore. Even Mateo seems to be okay with it. He's actually been really mature about it, and I'm really proud.” Jane closed her eyes and ran her hand across her forehead. “It just feels weird to me. It's such a contrast to when I thought my husband died, because it's not sadness, but there is a feeling of grief.”
“Your marriage to the man you thought was the love of your life ended. That's a big deal, Jane.”
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