11. The Ex

THE EX

T he next morning dawned bright and clear, a stark contrast to the emotional turbulence of the previous day. Rosie stood in front of her wardrobe, once again facing the eternal question: what does one wear to meet their estranged husband?

After much deliberation, she settled on a simple blue dress that Derek had always liked, paired with a cardigan that was new – a small symbol of the changes in her life. But as she studied her reflection, she couldn't help but wonder if she was trying too hard to recapture something that had long since passed.

As she was applying the last touches to her makeup, her phone buzzed with a flurry of messages from the Sensational Sixties Squad group chat:

Catherine: "Remember, you're strong and beautiful. Don't let him make you feel otherwise."

Julie: "Channel your inner goddess. You've got this!"

Lisa: "Stay true to yourself. We're here if you need us."

Trisha: "If he tries any funny business, I know people who know people. Just saying."

Emma: "Give him hell, Red!"

Rosie chuckled, shaking her head. She was about to reply when another message popped up, this time from Mike: "Hope you have a good day. Thinking of you."

Her stomach did a little flip at Mike's words. Simple, sweet, and utterly confusing given her impending lunch with Derek. Rosie sighed, pocketing her phone. One crisis at a time.

The walk to the restaurant felt both interminable and far too short. With each step, Rosie's mind raced with potential scenarios. What if Derek had changed? What if he hadn't? What if she had changed too much?

As she approached Chez Katerina, she spotted Derek through the window. He was already seated, nervously adjusting his tie. The sight was so familiar, yet somehow foreign - like looking at an old photograph of a place you once knew well but had almost forgotten.

Taking a deep breath, Rosie pushed open the door. The ma?tre d' looked up, his eyebrow raised in polite inquiry.

"I'm meeting someone," Rosie said, gesturing towards Derek. "My... my husband."

The word felt strange on her tongue. Ex-husband? Estranged husband? What were they to each other now?

As she approached the table, Derek stood, a tentative smile on his face. "Rosie," he said, his voice warm. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," Rosie replied, suddenly feeling shy. "You look well too."

An awkward moment passed as they both hesitated, unsure whether to hug, shake hands, or simply sit.

Derek pulled out her chair, a gesture so reminiscent of their early dating days that Rosie felt a pang of... was it nostalgia? Or something else?

As they settled into their seats, Derek noticed the changes in Rosie. There was a sparkle in her eye that he hadn't seen in years, a confidence in the way she carried herself.

"You look... different," he said, immediately regretting how it sounded. "I mean, you look wonderful. Happy."

Rosie smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her face. "I am happy, Derek. I've discovered a lot about myself these past few months."

Derek nodded, feeling a mix of admiration and regret. "I've heard about your new friends. The, uh, Sensational Sixties Squad, is it? Mary told me about them. They sound like good fun."

Rosie laughed, the sound both familiar and somehow new to Derek's ears. "Oh yes, they're quite a group. They've shown me that life doesn't end at sixty. It's only just beginning."

As Rosie launched into a story about their latest adventure, Derek found himself captivated. This was a side of Rosie he'd never seen – or perhaps, he realised with a pang, a side he'd never taken the time to see. He'd been so caught up in his own midlife crisis that he'd missed the amazing woman Rosie had always had the potential to be.

"I'm glad," he said softly when she finished, "that you've found this new life. And I... I hope there might be room in it for me."

Rosie smiled at Derek and took a moment to really look at her estranged husband. He had aged, of course - they both had. But there was something else, a vulnerability in his eyes that she wasn't used to seeing.

"So," Rosie began, fiddling with her menu, "how have you been?"

Derek nodded, taking a deep breath. "I've been... alright. Working a lot. The world feels empty without..." he trailed off, leaving the "you" unspoken but hanging in the air between them.

Rosie felt a twinge of guilt, quickly followed by a flash of anger. It had been his choice to leave, after all. But before she could dwell on it, the waiter appeared to take their order.

"I'll have the salmon salad," Rosie said, then froze as Derek spoke at the same time:

"She'll have the salmon salad, and I'll take the steak frites."

Their eyes met over the menu, a moment of shared amusement at their synchronicity quickly giving way to awkwardness.

"Sorry," Derek mumbled. "Old habits, I suppose."

As the waiter retreated, Rosie cast about for a safe topic. "Tell me about work then. No plans to retire?"

Derek launched into a story about his latest project, and Rosie found herself relaxing slightly. This was familiar territory - listening to Derek talk about his job, nodding in all the right places. It was almost comforting in its familiarity.

But as Derek spoke, Rosie's mind wandered. She thought of her friends, of the laughter and adventures they'd shared over the past few months. She thought of Mike, of the spark she'd felt on their date. And she realised that while sitting here with Derek was comfortable, it didn't make her heart race the way it once had.

"Rosie? Are you listening?"

Derek's voice snapped her back to the present. "Sorry," she said, flushing slightly. "I was just..."

But before she could finish her sentence, a commotion near the entrance caught her attention. To her horror and amusement, she saw Emma bobbing through the crowd, followed closely by Lisa, Julie, and Catherine.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Rosie muttered under her breath.

Derek turned to see what had caught her attention, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Well, I'll be! Rosie, darling, what a coincidence!" said Emma, her voice ringing out across the restaurant.

Rosie closed her eyes briefly, praying for patience. When she opened them, she plastered on a smile. "Emma! What a surprise. What brings you all here?"

Emma grinned, unrepentant. "Oh, you know, just thought we'd come and say ‘hello'. Mind if we join you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Emma pulled up a chair, the others following suit with varying degrees of embarrassment.

Derek looked bewildered but managed a polite smile. "Hello, I'm Derek. Rosie's..."

"Husband," Emma finished for him, her tone making the word sound like an accusation. "Yes, we've heard all about you."

Lisa, ever the peacemaker, jumped in. "It's lovely to meet you, Derek. Rosie's told us so much."

As the others settled in, ordering drinks and effectively hijacking what was supposed to be an intimate lunch, Rosie found herself torn between mortification and relief. On one hand, she was touched by her friends' obvious concern for her wellbeing. On the other, she was a grown woman, perfectly capable of handling lunch with her estranged husband on her own.

The conversation flowed in fits and starts, with Emma peppering Derek with not-so-subtle questions about his intentions, Lisa trying to steer things towards safer topics, Julie waxing poetic about the restaurant's decor, and Catherine looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.

Through it all, Derek remained remarkably composed, answering questions with grace and even managing to charm Julie with his unexpected knowledge of modern art.

As their food arrived - salmon salad for Rosie, steak frites for Derek, and an assortment of dishes for the interlopers - Rosie found herself studying Derek. There was a time when she could read his every expression, anticipate his every mood. Now, she realised with a start, he was almost a stranger to her.

"So, Derek," Emma said, spearing a piece of asparagus with more force than necessary, "what exactly are your intentions towards our Rosie?"

"Emma!" Lisa hissed, but Derek held up a hand.

"It's alright," he said, his eyes never leaving Rosie's face. "I appreciate your concern for Rosie. The truth is, I made a terrible mistake in leaving. I took for granted the wonderful life we had together, and I'm hoping... well, I'm hoping Rosie might give me a chance to make amends."

A hush fell over the table. Rosie felt her cheeks warm under the intensity of Derek's gaze and the expectant looks from her friends.

She didn't know what to say. She sat quietly, looking down at her hands until the welcome buzz of her phone gave her the distraction she craved. This was bound to be her daughter.

Rosie pulled it out, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Mike's name on the screen.

"Hi Rosie, Just wanted to say I hope your lunch is going well. No pressure, but if you need an escape plan, just say the word and I'll stage a medical emergency ;)"

Rosie smiled at the message, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Derek or her friends.

"Everything OK?" Derek asked, a hint of tension in his voice.

"All fine," Rosie said quickly, tucking her phone away. But the moment had shifted something in her. The warmth she'd felt at Mike's message, and the easy way he made her smile stood in stark contrast to the awkward, tension-filled lunch she was currently enduring.

As the meal progressed, Rosie found herself increasingly torn. On one hand, there was Derek - familiar, comfortable, a shared history of three decades. On the other, there was the new life she'd been building, filled with friendship, laughter, and the possibility of new love with Mike.

The conversation around her faded into a dull buzz as Rosie's mind whirled with conflicting emotions. She was vaguely aware of Emma regaling the table with an outrageous story, of Derek laughing politely at all the right moments, of Lisa shooting her concerned glances.

It wasn't until Derek placed his hand over hers that Rosie snapped back to the present.

"Rosie," he said softly, "I know this is a lot to take in. And I know I'm asking for more than I deserve. But I want you to know that I'm committed to making this work, if you'll have me."

Rosie looked into Derek's eyes, seeing the sincerity there. For a moment, she was transported back in time - to their first date, their wedding day, the birth of Mary. So many happy memories, so much shared history.

But then another image flashed in her mind - herself, surrounded by her new friends, laughing freely in a way she hadn't in years. And Mike's face, kind and understanding, offering her a future unburdened by past mistakes.

"I... I need some time to think, Derek," Rosie said finally. "This isn't a decision I can make lightly."

Derek nodded, disappointment clear in his eyes but also a glimmer of hope. "I understand. And I'll wait, Rosie. For as long as it takes."

As the lunch drew to a close, Rosie felt emotionally drained. Her friends, seeming to sense her need for space, made their excuses and left, but not before Emma could whisper in her ear, "Remember, you're the prize here, not him."

Derek walked Rosie to the door of the restaurant, an echo of countless dates from their past. "Thank you for meeting me," he said softly. "And for... for being open to the possibility."

Rosie managed a small smile. "Thank you for being honest about your feelings. I... I'll be in touch, Derek. I promise."

They parted with an awkward half-hug.

As she walked home, Rosie found herself at a crossroads - not just metaphorically, but literally. To the left lay the path to her old life with Derek, familiar and comfortable. To the right, the route to her new home, where possibility and uncertainty waited.

For a moment, Rosie hesitated. Then, almost of their own accord, her feet turned right. She wasn't ready to make any big decisions yet, but she knew one thing for certain - whatever choice she made, it would be on her own terms.

As she walked, her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from the Sensational Sixties Squad group chat:

Emma: "Well, that was certainly interesting. You okay, Red?"

Lisa: "We're here if you need to talk, Rosie."

Julie: "I thought Derek seemed nice, actually. But it's your decision, of course."

Catherine: "Just remember, you deserve to be happy. Whatever that looks like for you."

Rosie smiled. She was about to reply when another message came through, this time from Mike:

"No medical emergencies required, I hope? If you're free later, I'd love to hear about your day. No pressure, of course."

Without overthinking it, she typed out a reply:

"Actually, a chat would be lovely. Meet you at the park in an hour?"

Mike's response arrived almost immediately: "I'll be there. Looking forward to it."

As Rosie continued her walk home, she felt a curious mix of emotions.

The lunch with Derek had stirred up old memories and emotions, but it had also clarified something for Rosie. She wasn't the same woman she had been when Derek left. She had grown, changed, discovered new parts of herself. And while part of her would always care for Derek, she wasn't sure if there was room in her new life for old patterns.

As she approached her house, Rosie made a decision. She would take things one day at a time. She would be honest with both Derek and Mike about her feelings and her uncertainties. And most importantly, she would prioritize her own happiness and growth.