The Fling (18+)

Starting Over - Chapter 1

A/N: The following is a bonus story set after the events of "The Fling" - for those of you who wanted to know what happened to Jess, this is for you!

Chapter 1

Buying groceries hadn't lost its novelty yet.

Strolling through the aisles in Safeway, I scanned over the labels of the canned goods, remembering Grandma's handwritten recipe. The letters had been shaky and often less than legible, but I could see them clearly in my mind. I put a selection of beans and diced tomatoes in my cart, smiling.

Her chili wasn't ever going to win any cookoffs, but it tasted like bright, winter afternoons, fingers still tingling with post-sledding cold.

Stuck in the dreary doldrums of mid-February, it was a comfort I craved.

Moving down the aisle, I consulted the list on my phone, skimming through it and searching for what came next.

And you wonder why I had you on a meal plan. You're gonna balloon up if you keep eating like th-

I squashed the voice with barely a thought. The sour, needling tone rang hatefully familiar in my ears, but it was starting to fade. With the time and distance between us, I had gotten pretty good at shutting out the constant nagging of Robbie's ghost.

It was becoming easier by the day.

Shutting the specter of my ex-husband out of my mind, I headed for the baking supplies. My last experiment with sourdough had been a measured success, but I wasn't satisfied yet.

Besides, I smiled, picking out a large bag of semisweet chocolate chips, I have a cookie fiend to feed.

Wide blue eyes and an infectious, dimpled smile flashed over my thoughts. Danny, the little boy of my downstairs neighbor, was irresistibly lovable in that way that only very young children and animals can be. I'd helped his mother with her groceries a time or two, and we'd struck up a casual friendship over the past few months. Inevitably, he had captured my heart.

My warm fondness cooled as I wondered-

Will that ever happen for me?

It hadn't happened with Robbie - thank God.

There had been a few times during the disaster of our marriage that I'd become convinced that the worst had happened - that my birth control had failed, and he'd finally succeeded at trapping me forever. But, no - that little copper contraption had remained steadfast to the end.

Ultimately, all I had to show from my marriage were the emotional scars and the nice, fat settlement he'd paid me to keep my mouth shut.

Jesus, I'm being melancholic.

Shaking myself out of my funk, I set the chocolate chips in my cart and gripped the handle, pushing onward.

This isn't forever, I reminded myself, repeating the words of my therapist. One day, I'll forget the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne.

One day, he'll just be my ex, an awkward blip in a past that's well behind me.

Swallowing next to the rack of spices, I wondered if I really believed that.

If I closed my eyes, I could still see that initial moment - the first appraising glance he'd shot me as we passed each other in the hall. We'd murmured polite "hellos" and gone on with our days - but fate had been set in motion. Afterward, I wasn't sure if I had imagined it, but the electric sensation of his interest had been unmistakable.