Spring Came When I Left Chapter 1

I ran into Randall again ten years after our divorce.

I was enrolling our son in his new school.

He was there to donate a new building for his daughter.

I offered him a polite smile. He looked flustered.

We ended up making small talk, the usual awkward pleasantries. As we parted ways, his eyes were glued to the acceptance letter in my hand. He looked like he wanted to say something more.

Finally, he couldn't hold it in. "Our son… he seems to be doing well with you."

Doing well?

I just smiled, not offering a real answer.

Yes, he was doing well. After I stopped loving Randall, our son and I… we were both doing very well.

* * *

Randall caught up to me at the school gate. "Where are you living now? I can give you a ride."

I took a few steps back, putting some distance between us. "No, thank you. I drove myself."

Randall looked stunned, a little lost. "Since when do you drive?"

I smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as the wind blew it across my face. I just shook my head gently.

Randall's memory of me was frozen ten years in the past. But I had moved on, traveled so far from the woman he remembered.

On the drive home, a car shadowed mine the entire way. I knew who it was, but I didn't let it bother me. It was only when I stopped at a red light that the thought truly hit me.

Ten years.

I used to imagine that seeing Randall again would break me, that all the old pain and hysteria would come rushing back and I'd fall apart.

But there was nothing.

I was as calm as if I'd run into a complete stranger, a footnote in the story of my life. Even with him following right behind me, my heart remained perfectly still, not a single ripple disturbing its surface.

I locked my car and took the elevator straight up to my apartment. Randall didn't follow, but I knew he wouldn't leave. It was just like all those nights we used to fight; he would rather sleep on a park bench all night than be far from me, waiting for me to be moved by his gesture.

Sure enough, after I'd washed up and pulled back the curtains, I saw the tell-tale glow of a cigarette ember in the darkness below.

Randall stood with his head bowed, the ground around his feet littered with countless cigarette butts. He looked up. I looked down. Just like we had a thousand times before. But we both knew there was no going back.

"Mom, what are you looking at?" my son asked, emerging from his room in his pajamas.

I quickly drew the curtains shut and smiled. "Nothing."

Just an irrelevant person from the past.