Chapter 10: The New Normal
By the third month the sharp edges of the wedding day had settled into a quieter, more permanent shape.
My hair had grown enough to form a short, even silver cap that no longer required explanation or disguise. I stopped answering questions about it. The few people who still asked received a brief, neutral reply and nothing more. The story belonged to me; I was under no obligation to perform it for anyone’s curiosity or sympathy.
Jackson called less frequently, but the calls he did make carried less confusion and more weight. He had retained his own attorney. He had moved permanently into the apartment he had taken during the early separation. Natalie, according to the limited information he chose to share, continued to insist that the entire episode had been a misunderstanding amplified by my “emotional fragility.” The claim grew thinner each time it was repeated against the accumulating record of documents, statements, and time-stamped evidence.
May you like
I did not ask him to choose me over her in dramatic terms. I asked for nothing except the continued respect of the boundary I had drawn: he was welcome in my home; the version of events Natalie preferred was not. He seemed to understand the difference, even if he had not yet finished living through the consequences of ignoring it on his wedding day.
Judith returned to her own house but continued to check in several times a week. We spoke of ordinary things—books, the garden, a new exhibit at the museum Frank had once supported. The conversations restored a rhythm that predated Natalie by decades. In that rhythm I found a steadiness no public toast or legal filing could have supplied on its own.
