An Imperfect Love Story - Book 8

California Graduation

LENA POV

I can't believe it's already June as the heat from the upcoming summer months is beginning to hit us again full force. 1987 has been such a blur for me and most of 1986 if I'm honest as not only have Stef and I sold our little house on Crestwood Drive but I also helped her and the kids move into their new one this past April.

It was a cute little house, smaller then the one we shared but it had three bedrooms, a nice backyard, a big driveway where Corey loved to play ball. The kitchen was also a nice size for Stef and Frankie to bake which she told me they started to do once again. It was no secret that our separation and ending our marriage had been extremely painful for all the kids and Stef and I were not excluded from that pain.

In the beginning Frankie had not spoken to either of us and had started to call her Mama Dukes, Aunt Stef.  I knew it hurt my ex wife for she took her role as a mother to our children very seriously and thankfully after many, many talks, and time she was back to baking with Stef and calling her Mama Dukes.

Of course she had her moments and we were well aware she was still extremely angry at the two of us but we were working on that everyday as well as with our other children.

But the two of us knew the kids would be better off this way and we had tried very hard to fix our broken marriage, almost exhausting every resource, in order to make a home for us and our children. In the end it just didn't work and we both knew we had to move on.

Nonetheless, it took me longer to get approved for a loan, but since finding a new job at an up and coming art gallery, Studio 24, as a receptionist in January, I was thankful to have saved a little bit of money. Working at the bakery full time had helped a great deal as well and I owed Julius so much for that. And for letting me stay with him after Stef and I called it quits.

What really helped was working out an agreement to pay my parents back as my dad had offered to help me out in the purchase of my new little ranch home here in San Diego. It was cute, large enough for me and kids and it wasn't too far from where Stef lived so the kids could remain in the same school.

I all but refused to move back to Maine even after my mother insisted it might be easier. In some sense sure it would be but I couldn't do that to my kids or to Stef because we both wanted to make this co-parenting thing work for our children. As part of the arrangement Stef and I told them which days they'd be with who and how it was going to be, and we had made it work, not having fought once since we separated. I didn't count the little arguments we had or tiny disputes as fighting for we weren't slinging mean things towards one another.

That alone boggled my mind, for how can we work better apart and unmarried? Of course I still have feelings for Stef for sure, but I refuse to allow them to surface for anything as the mental health of our children meant more to me than my own love life.

At this point, I'm done with relationships and have been focusing on healing and moving on. I still attend therapy and GA meetings, and I no longer take medication for the depression I had. Every single morning without fail I run down by the water, and every night I go for long walks in the same area as the sun sets. I've also started to paint again, mostly when the kids are with Stef, and I'm looking to turn the shed in the back into my studio. It was something I always wanted in our previous house but well, I just never felt supported by Stef in terms of my art. Even if she apologized, part of me felt like she resented it to a degree so I just pushed it to the back burner.

Honestly, since separating and being on my own the past few months it's been odd at times but almost freeing. I don't miss the yelling, I don't miss the bickering, I don't miss the painful things we would say, and I don't miss feeling inadequate. It wasn't that Stef tried to make me feel this way on purpose, but I felt so trapped in the marriage, and like we were on a hamster wheel. Plus, I always questioned if she was drinking or sober or if she was somehow with Tess. That did nothing for my anxiety and even if my place is quiet, and my bed is cold, it feels ok. For the first time and I can breath.