Purposefully Accidental

Chapter Fifty-seven

I weep, again, as I'm jotting down my signature.

Dramatic, I know. Freddie remains calm and collected, though. He signs his quickly, easily, then waits a few long minutes while I weigh the pen in my hand. He snorts a laugh when I finally press the tip of the pen on the paper with a nervous grimace. And that's that. We're done. It's over. Just like that.

Here we are now, back in the living room. I've switched out my red wine with water. Although my stomach is still churning, I do feel the weight lifting off my shoulders. I can finally leave Mrs. Archer behind, ready to start the next chapter of my life.

"I can't believe we were married for three whole years," I say in wonder. "Remember how you used to joke about that all the time? Back in college?"

"It used to piss you off so much," Freddie recalls. "I still remember the look of horror on your face when I said we should get married."

I laugh. "Oh, God. Don't remind me."

"Guess it helped that we barely saw each other in the years we were married," he says with a shrug. "You never got the chance to get sick of me."

I roll my eyes at him. "And who says I'm not already sick of you?"

"You're saying that as if you weren't in tears over the thought of divorcing me half an hour ago," he counters smugly.

"Those were happy tears," I joke. I add, more seriously, "But you're okay, right?"

Freddie tilts his head to the side. "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know." I shrug. "I feel like... all of these conversations have always been centered around me. How I feel about marrying you, how I feel about divorcing you. But... I don't think I've ever asked you how you feel about any of it. Sorry."

His face scrunches up in confusion. "I'm feeling fine. I'm a big boy."

"That was a really rough year for the both of us. Not just for me," I remind him. "I was... too preoccupied with my own shit, I never really considered how you'd be feeling. If one of us is terrible friend, it's definitely me."

"Oh, shush. I'm okay, Hannah," he says sincerely. "You were not a terrible friend. You were... an okay companion. No complaints from me," he says, a bit of humor in his voice.

I smile a little, but it doesn't last. Freddie lost his dad just after marrying a girl who got cancer and was drowning in depressive episodes. All while he was speeding his way through business school so he could be ready to take over a multibillion-dollar company. And it's pretty shameful to admit that I haven't really been there for him through any of that.

"I've been a shitty friend. And... it's even shittier for me to ask... do you have, um, other friends, Freddie?" I ask, my cheeks warming with shame. "I mean. Like. You kept saying that I was your best friend, when in reality I haven't even really been there for you. I just... I don't know."

Freddie grins at me. "I do have other friends, Hannah."

"Well. That's good to know."

"I promise I do. I'm not... lonely, or anything. You don't need to worry about me. Like I said, I'm a big boy."

He looks sincere as he says that, so I relent. "Okay, Freddie. Still, you can always talk to me about anything. You know that, right? I haven't been really good at it in the past, I know. But I'll be better now." Then I tilt my head to the side, considering. "Or... you don't have to, if you don't trust me. Was that the reason why you never told me about Tammy? Did you not... trust me?"

He rolls his eyes so hard as he throws his head back into the couch behind him. "You cannot still be pissed off with me about her."

"I'm not! I swear! I mean, yeah, it kinda stung that you guys were seeing each other all these years without me knowing. We were all friends. But it's fine. I had a long phone call with Tammy and cleared some things up."