Healing in Your Arms

On the seventh evening since Nathaniel had returned to the country, the setting sun stained the living room floor a pale gold. Lisa Cruz sat on the sofa across from me, her fingertips clutching a neatly folded piece of paper. Her movements were somewhat stiff, yet her eyes held an unusual steadiness. "Cedric, let's get a divorce." My hand holding the teacup faltered; the warmth of the tea seeped through the cup—not scorching, but unable to melt the chill deep in my heart. Lisa Cruz avoided my gaze, her voice soft yet resolute. "I missed Nathaniel's twentieth birthday; I cannot miss his fortieth as well." Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the living room. I neither pressed for answers nor tried to hold her back. Some words need not be spoken; some endings have long been foretold. The silence stretched on for a full ten minutes before I reached out for the divorce papers. As the pen traced the paper, I sensed Lisa's tense shoulders ease slightly. After signing, I slid the agreement back toward her. "The division of assets will go as you said, and I will fight for custody of the child." Lisa Cruz's eyes flickered, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she only nodded. I rose and stepped into the study, closing the door to shut out everything beyond. In the bottom drawer of the desk lay a yellowed notebook. On the last page of the notebook was a long-forgotten number. It was Amy Cruz's phone number, Lisa's niece. My fingers lingered over the screen for a few seconds before finally pressing the dial. The phone was answered after three rings, Amy Cruz's slightly hoarse voice coming through. "Cedric Kelly?" I gave a faint affirmative, my throat tightening slightly. "Where are you? I want to see you." Amy was silent for a moment, then gave the address of a coffee shop. After hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, watching the sunset steadily sink beyond the window. The door opened gently, and Lisa Cruz's voice came through. "I'm going to pick up Nathaniel." I didn't turn around, replying only faintly. Not long after, the sound of a car engine turning off drifted up from downstairs. Shortly after came the doorbell, followed by Lisa Cruz's footsteps, carrying a trace of excitement. I moved to the study door; through the wood panel, I could hear the conversation outside. "Sorry I'm late, there was traffic on the road." It was Nathaniel Parker's voice—warm, with a carefully measured gentleness. "You're not late; I've been waiting for you a long time." Lisa's voice was bright with happiness. Then came a brief silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing. I know—they're kissing. I pushed the door open and walked past them without expression. Lisa Cruz saw me; the flush on her face vanished instantly, replaced by anger. "Cedric, don't you care at all?" I stopped and glanced back at her. "And what good does it do if I do?" My tone was flat, utterly devoid of feeling. Lisa was so stunned by my words she could not speak; her eyes filled with tears. Nathaniel Parker draped his arm around her shoulder, looking at me with a challenge. "Cedric, now that you're divorced, don't keep entangling yourself with Lisa." I ignored him, grabbed my coat from the hallway, and stepped outside. The evening breeze was chilly, brushing against my face and clearing some of the haze clouding my mind. I wandered aimlessly through the streets, my thoughts drifting uncontrollably back to years long past.