Logic and desire resemble a combination of oil and water. The knowing that what we're often drawn to is undeniably bad for us.
Yet, somehow we can't resist its magnetic pull. The irresistible force that weakens our very core and makes us question the growth we've apparently embarked on.
Every one of us has a kryptonite; a weakness.
Mine is six foot tall and has an alluring British accent that is still the subject of my wet dreams.
Every fiber of my being screams warnings and I see flashes of red lights in my mind whenever he's around. Rational thoughts whisper caution in his proximity, reminding me of the consequences that await me.
But as always, there is an inexplicable allure, an intoxication that clouds my judgment and drowns out reason.
Today, however, I somehow manage to survive his mighty wrath.
Perhaps it's because I spent the entirety of the day thinking about this very encounter - what it could possibly mean and maybe even potentially lead to.
One thing was for certain once I reached a painful conclusion; if he wanted me back, we would be back together right now. But instead, he's getting married to someone else.
No matter how hard-headed and delusional I may choose to be, that is the reality.
I do a quick touch-up on the blood-stained lipstick on my lips before finally exiting the Uber. The matte substance is only there to give me confidence, nothing else. I've recently learned about the magnifying power of a red lipstick.
Today I have it on as a shield... a mask. It's supposed to make me look tougher than I actually am. I'm not tough but he doesn't need to know that.
The beige dress I'm wearing hangs on my body loosely because of the weight loss over the months, but it manages to hold on to the necessary edges quite fondly.
I fix my posture after exiting the car then finally make my way to the magnificent restaurant that stands confidently before me.
Paletzo is a famous competitor of La Chevre and I feel like a traitor as I enter through the inviting doors. Evin birthed an incredible restaurant but even I can admit true elegance when I see it.
It's definitely a competitor for a reason.
I'm directed to a booth table after checking in and I'm welcomed by a sharply dressed ex-husband who pulls the chair out for me.
I don't appreciate the chivalry - I don't appreciate that he chose such a high-end restaurant either. If he intended to not give me the wrong idea, he failed miserably. It's like he's doing it on purpose, the man can't possibly be that clueless.
He must think I'm naive. In his defense, I am.
But not today. Because by some miracle, I have managed to successfully convince myself that all he is to me, and all he'll ever be, is my baby's father. I don't see how that could ever change... realistically.
So I keep a composed attitude when I greet him and then proceed to let his comment about how beautiful I look slide.
Once I finally take a seat on the chair he pulled out for me, I can't help but,
"Was all this necessary?"
"I just wanted you to be comfortable. I know things have been tough."
It's suddenly clear. He's about to break some upsetting news to me, I can already tell. The man is predictable as he is fine.
All this chivalry was to soften the blow, it must've been. Or maybe I've just had so many punches recently and everything that appears slightly bearable feels too good to be true.
I don't think anything could hurt more than finding out about his engagement, but Murphy's Law, right?
I'm afraid to hear the word, 'engaged', slip through his lips. I'm not ready to hear him admit it. He probably wants to talk about where Zoe and I will fit into his new life with his future wife.
All I know is he better not ask me to come to the wedding.
"I guess this is really who you are, huh?"
The unnecessary comment passes through my lips without my permission. Why do we feel the need to hurt those that hurt us?
I think I've mentally wrestled with the thought for too long and the words begged to be delivered. But I regret them as soon as I say them.
I see him shift uncomfortably on the chair, no doubt affected by my cunning words. Maybe I'm being unfair, but it wasn't fair that he wasted so much of my time and made me believe he was something he clearly wasn't.
"I know you resent me for being successful."
Excuse you?
Seeing my not-so-subtle reaction to his comment, he corrects;
"Maybe those aren't the right words to use. But just because I grew up poor doesn't mean I can't have nice things now. It doesn't mean I've changed either."
Fair. But he definitely has changed.
I don't tell him that in fear of starting an argument we failed to finish back when we were married.
I instead say to him,
"What you like or don't like has nothing to do with me, Olli."
That's the truth. Whatever I think of him now doesn't matter, it shouldn't. I'm his ex-wife, he made sure that remains the case.
"Yeah, but what you think of me matters to me."
"Why is that?"
I barely allow him to finish before I ask.
"What am I doing here, Olli? Is this about Zoe? Could you not send a text? Or better yet, send your assistant like you've been doing this whole time."
Maybe I'm a little too cranky right now. But he's been a massive asshole to me, and quite frankly, I'm tired.
It feels like he thinks he can pull the strings to my limbs and I'll jump to his command. Perhaps I'm the one who gave him that idea and I'll take the blame.
For a long time, I allowed him to treat me that way so I could redeem my own actions. I'm the partner who cheated - I can't cry, I can't complain.
I was supposed to sit and take it, and I did that—way too many times.
I lay on the bed that I made and I let him treat me like a mere option.
Sometimes he called, sometimes he didn't. That was ok because I cheated. Sometimes he spoke to me, sometimes he didn't. That was ok because I cheated.
But now I've had enough.
"I know I haven't been the best at communicating. I'm honestly still trying to navigate everything. It's been hard y'know? Everything happened all at once. One day I'm married, the next I'm not. And then after my marriage ends, I find out I'm a father. It's been a lot."
I will give him that. It has been a lot, and once again it was my fault.
When I found out I was pregnant with Zoe, I ran away instead of admitting the truth to him. And I could come up with all the excuses in the world but that was wrong of me.
Yes, I didn't want to ruin his new relationship and flourishing career, but in making that decision, I not only took away from his experience with his unborn child, but I took away Zoe's much earlier years with her father.
So I get it, it's been a lot.
But still,
"I just don't understand the purpose of this meeting."
I know I'm the one who excitedly told him to meet me tonight. But that's almost expected from the person who would've given anything to have her ex-husband back.
What is his excuse for asking to see me so privately?
"I... I wanted to say, I'm sorry."
The genuine sincerity in his voice confuses me, only because those were the last words I expected to hear from him. I keep forgetting I married this man for a reason.
"Everything that's happened with us, every single thing... I had a part to play as much as you did. I'm sorry that your life ended the day mine began, and I'm sorry that you were left to deal with the ripple effects of both our flaws and mistakes."
My voice gets caught in my throat. Words escape me as I look back at the man who sits before me. He's nervous - I can tell he's been thinking about the words to say to me for some time now.
'I'm sorry', is a phrase that doesn't take away from the past, nor does it change anything. But it can easily turn a broken heart into a healing one.
"I know that doesn't change much, but I wanted to see you because I don't want us to hurt and punish each other anymore. We have this beautiful child together and I want us to be a team, to do our best to give her the life we never had.
And that starts with us getting along and communicating effectively."
I try my best to contain the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes, but one manages to escape anyway.
There's nothing I want more in this world than to make sure my daughter has a better life than I did.
Olli's father left him to start another family he didn't know about until he was much older. I know he doesn't want to become his father, that was why he happily accepted Zoe even after I hid her from him.
Maybe our romantic future is over but maybe something better is on the horizon. If we put the past where it belongs, maybe we can even become friends.
"You're right, you were always the sane one and I the emotional. We owe it to Zoe to work on our relationship and communication."
I release a smile as I say.
I came into this conversation secretly hoping for one outcome, but I got a better one instead.
"I don't know how you'll feel about this but I'm at least hoping you'll consider it. I wanted you and Zo to move into the old house. That way she'll go to the private daycare close by... of course I'll handle the fees. You won't have to struggle with figuring out where she'll go after school and how you'll fetch her. They can drop her off and collect her in the morning, I've already checked with them. I thought that may give you some time to work on your own dreams too.
You've been carrying the bulk of the parenting weight and I think it's time we share that."
After Olli found out about Zoe, I still insisted on being the primary giver, even though I could barely afford it. Perhaps it was because I wanted to prove a point.
But the truth is, I'm drowning and I could use the help. It also wouldn't hurt to start investing in my own dreams too.
But wait,
"The old house?"
I almost missed that part. I'm pretty sure we sold the old house. I know because I got half the money from the sale.
He kept it?
"Uh... yeah. I never actually sold it. I couldn't go through it. I guess after a while I just forgot about it."
That makes sense. Why would he remember the house he built for his ex-wife?
"Oh, ok."
The tone of my voice betrays me.
I look around the esteemed restaurant, only now remembering we still haven't ordered anything. The waiter hasn't even returned after showing me my seat.
The service here is either really bad or the waiter saw me crying earlier and freaked out. Either way, I'm hungry and I'm not leaving until I taste the food here. I want to know if La Chèvre is indeed the superior of the two.
"So... is that a yes on moving to the old house?"
As proud as I am for having my own home which I pay for, it's not in the safest neighborhood and it probably isn't the best place to raise a child.
Our old house had ample space and it's in a secure location that has endless kid-friendly spots, as well as a prominent daycare. It definitely doesn't hurt that I won't have to worry about picking Zoe up anymore. I assume the daycare has some sort of a night drop-off arrangement.
As proud as I feel, this is not about me. This is about my daughter.
So,
"Yeah, thanks. Zo and I would really appreciate that."
I say just as the waiter finally returns to take our orders.