Love, Shared

My ex and I were no longer a couple, but we were still family

- Jennie Ivey

I WENT TO THE REGISTER aat the trendiest—and the most expensive— children’s boutique in town, carrying two white eyelet dresses with pale aqua ribbons, presents I could ill afford. “Twins?” the saleswoman said.

I shook my head. “First cousins, born two days apart. My granddaughters.”

“Lucky you,” she said.

Lucky? That wasn’t how I felt. What was lucky about having my 35-year marriage collapse? Or scrambling to find a place to live after moving out of the rambling old farmhouse where my ex and I had raised our three children? Or worrying about how to make ends meet on my paycheck?

A few months earlier, my husband and I had been sitting on our screened porch, drinking iced tea and peeling peaches. We couldn’t find much to say to each other, which was pretty typical for us lately. Then he dropped the bombshell. “‘Till death do us part’ just doesn’t work for me anymore,” he said. “I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a soul mate, but I need to look for mine.”