I returned to the kitchen and finished preparing dinner while Cooper excitedly told Diane about a dinosaur documentary he had watched earlier that week.
For a while, everything felt strangely normal.
Comfortable.
Dangerously comfortable.
“There’s enough pasta if you want to eat,” I called out casually.
She hesitated.
“Are you sure?”
“It’s just dinner, Diane.”
But deep down, we both knew it wasn’t “just dinner.”
We sat together at the same dining table where we had shared thousands of meals before the divorce. Cooper talked nonstop while Diane smiled and listened carefully, the same way she always had when he became excited about something.
Watching them together awakened emotions I had spent two years trying to bury.
Memories came rushing back too easily.
Family vacations.
Sunday mornings.
Movie nights on the couch.
The version of us I thought no longer existed.
And for one dangerous moment, I found myself wondering whether some part of me still missed her.
The Movie Night That Changed Everything
After dinner, Cooper begged us to watch a movie together.
“Please? Just one movie?”
Diane glanced at me carefully before answering.
“It’s up to your dad.”
I should have said no.
I should have protected the distance we had spent two years creating.
Instead, I nodded.
“Fine. One movie.”
We settled onto the couch and turned on The Incredibles.
Cooper sat between us at first, laughing loudly at scenes he had already seen a dozen times. Eventually, somewhere near the middle of the film, he fell asleep against Diane’s shoulder.
Neither of us moved.
The room became quiet except for the television softly playing in the background.
And suddenly, sitting there beside her felt painfully familiar.
Like time had folded backward.
Like our divorce had never happened.
For a few dangerous minutes, I allowed myself to believe we might still somehow find our way back to each other.
That was my first mistake.
