Chapter 13 You Misunderstood

The voice was all too familiar—it was Yvette's crush, Randall. I instantly shut my mouth and ended the call. She was bold enough to bring him home and still drag out our divorce. Was she planning to play both sides? And how dare Randall show up at her place this late at night, alone, as if he was offering himself up on a silver platter. This was like walking into the lion's den, giving Yvette every chance to make her move. But then again, why did I care? As her soon-to-be ex-husband, her choices were none of my business. My focus now was on living my own life. "Owen!" At some point, Kenny had come back with a big bag of groceries. Raising the bags, he said, "I promised you a feast this morning, so I went and got the best ingredients." A grin spread across my face. "You're cooking tonight? Awesome." See? Even my friend was willing to make a home-cooked meal for me. My wife never had, not even once. While he prepared the ingredients in the kitchen, I joined him to lend a hand. He didn't turn me away but asked, "Owen, were you on the phone with that… well, with Yvette just now?" I nodded. He paused and then looked at me with concern in his eyes. "Tell me honestly, Owen… do you still have feelings for her?" I shook my head without hesitation. "No. Not anymore." It was true; I didn't love Yvette anymore. But after so many years of loving her, hearing some bad news still stung. I was human, with feelings, and I couldn't just shut them off. "Really?" Kenny studied me, pondering. "But what if she suddenly treated you well again? Would you feel sorry for her?" "Not a chance. The sky is more likely to fall than for Yvette to ever treat me kindly," I laughed. No one knew better than I did how deeply she was fixated on her prince charming—but I understood Kenny's worry. I looked at him seriously. "No matter what happens, I won't go back. I've been hurt once and picked myself up; I won't fall for it again." He nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Hold your ground. Even if she starts acting nice, she's hurt you too deeply. Don't go back—it's her loss, not yours. Got it? "Besides, I know plenty of pretty girls who'd love a guy like you with so many talents and great looks. You'll be spoiled for choice." I laughed. "We'll see. I'm in no rush." He nodded, then asked, "Oh, I almost forgot. How did the job interview go today?" The interview was awful, but I didn't want him to worry, so I brushed it off with a half-truth. "Didn't get hired. Big company and all, they want experienced people. I've been a househusband for a year, not quite what they're after." He looked disappointed, muttering that it didn't make sense. Then he perked up, reassuring me. "It's no big deal. This was just one company. I applied to hundreds back in the day; only a few called me in. I'll help you find a good fit." I looked at him with genuine gratitude. "Thanks, Kenny." In my last life, I'd cut myself off from everyone to please Yvette. By the time I died, I was completely alone. But this time, I'd regained real friendship. Even though we'd been out of touch for a year, it was like no time had passed when we reunited. We're still as close as ever, fully supporting each other. "What are you thanking me for? We're best friends." Kenny laughed, a bit embarrassed. I tried not to tear up and remembered something else. "I ran into my uncle today." His eyes widened in surprise. "Your uncle? Didn't you lose contact years ago? How did that happen?" I told him the whole story of our meeting. "I ran into him today at my mom's grave. He was so heartbroken that he nearly had a heart attack. I ended up taking him to the hospital." Kenny thought for a moment, then offered an insight I hadn't considered. "Maybe your dad wanted to keep your mom's family out of your life. It sounds like he might've even pushed your mom to distance herself from them before she passed." His theory made perfect sense. "You might be right." "So, where's your uncle now?" he asked. "At the hospital. His heart's in rough shape, and he urgently needs surgery," I sighed. "I called Yvette for help covering the medical expenses since I'm pretty broke myself." Kenny gave me a long, concerned look, as if seeing me differently. "You ever feel like… you've changed?" I laughed. "What makes you say that?" He thought for a second before saying, "You seem a lot more clear-headed now, more grounded." He continued, "Before, you were so easygoing, always happy even if someone was taking advantage of you. But now? You're clear about what's owed to you, even asking Yvette for a divorce settlement." I gave her everything without asking for anything back when I was in love with her. Now, though, I'd asked for two million as part of the divorce settlement. Looking back, that was not something my old, naive self would've done. I smiled and said, "Guess I've wisened up. Not a bad thing, right?" He grinned. "Not bad at all. It's great—you've grown some backbone. Now go make me rich!" We both laughed together, unable to stop. Getting a second chance at life had been incredible. I could see everyone clearly now, I understood myself better, and I'd found friendship and family that I didn't have before. Seeing everything finally heading in a good direction filled me with quiet joy. … The next morning, Yvette called at ten, saying her car was waiting outside. I hurried down and found a sleek, black luxury car. Getting inside, I noticed she wasn't there. Confused, I asked, "Where's Yvette?" The driver, Samson Cruz, smiled. "Ms. Jenning had something come up and will join you soon." "Oh," I said, shrugging, then gazed out the window, uninterested in prying further. But I noticed Samson glancing at me in the rearview mirror like he wanted to say something. Catching his eye in the mirror, I asked, "Samson, is there something you want to say?" Samson hesitated before asking, "Are you and Ms. Jenning having issues?" My expression shifted slightly. "Why did you ask that?" He sighed softly. "Since you left, Ms. Jenning's stomach issues have flared up badly. She's been suffering, her face pale as can be, yet she won't go to the hospital." I knew about her stomach pain; she'd called me late at night once, asking where I kept the medicine. But… I frowned, confused. "Didn't she have a male doctor with her last night? Doesn't that count as getting help?" "A male doctor?" Samson remembered something and explained, "Oh, that young man came on his own; Ms. Jenning didn't call him. And… the person she wanted to see wasn't him."