So, this past weekend comes and I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with "J". We make plans to have dinner with my best girl, "D" and her boy Friday night. This will be the first time I'm meeting this boy I've heard so much about - and vice versa. We ended up at The Alchemist Lounge in JP for some of the best drinks, food, and company I've had in a long time. We heard some crazy stories about the medical field (see: prolapse) and "J" and I doled out some relationship advice. All exhausted from a long week, we left relatively early and headed home where "J" and I finally had some quality time together. We even got to sleep in a little Saturday morning! It was a small slice of Heaven.
Now, since "J" and I are heading to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving weekend, he had "Little J" this weekend. He invited me to spend the weekend with them. Fighting my desire to have this time with my favorite boy and his gorgeous little girl, I tell him to enjoy Saturday alone with her. He hasn't had any time alone with her in weeks - and they needed some daughter/daddy time. They had lunch, went to the movies, chilled out at home. It was everything he needed. Now, since I am not that selfless, I spent Sunday hanging with them. We played store and tic-tac-toe, colored, dressed up, and had the city's best hot chocolate.
Now, this next part is BIG! On Saturday, "J" told me that I had been invited to "Little J's" house to meet her mom ("N"), step-dad and sister. He asked me how I felt about this. Honestly, I felt fine. I was actually looking forward to meeting her mother. It would help me continue to connect the dots of his life - something I rather enjoy. So, our Sunday is planned around this first meeting.
We arrive after stopping at the store to pick up dessert. From the second I walk through the door, I feel comfortable. Like we're friends. We look at dresses in her closet. And talk about having more babies. And watch The Little Mermaid. And have dinner and drink wine. It was incredible. I would be friends with this girl. Later that evening - when I should have been in bed - "J" and "N" are in the kitchen having a very serious discussion. I am talking to her husband (me with the baby in my arms, of course) in the family room. I overhear "J" tell her that he's sorry for the way he treated her when she found out she was pregnant. At that very moment, my heart smiled - he's finally getting the opportunity he's waited years for. Finally getting to say the words he's felt for so long but never had the courage or opportunity to say. He's making amends and starting to build something with this woman who has dedicated her life to raising her children. I knew at that moment this dinner was fate - and that we were all a part of something wonderful.
When we finally leave (after hugs, of course), "J" tells me in the car about his amazing conversation. About the tears. And the hope. And the healing. She was grateful for his apology. He was grateful for her sacrifice. They both developed a love for each other that was non-existent before that moment. Now they both have an admiration, respect, and love for each other as they raise their beautiful daughter. What a gift! "Little J" might just be the luckiest girl in the world to have so many people who love her so deeply. And purely. That differences don't seem to matter. And the past can be forgiven.
We drive home, both exhausted but in awe of such an amazing experience. When he drops me off at my car, I tell him I miss him. I miss not living across the street. I miss it being so easy to sleep in his bed. He sits silent. I ask the obvious question: do you not miss living so close to me? He pauses for a moment. "Yes, I do miss not having you so close. I miss you being able to sleep in my bed and go across the street to get ready. I miss it so much that I have been thinking about suggesting we get a place together." I am paralyzed. But I manage to smile. Then he kisses me. And I get out of the car and climb into mine. And drive home. Smiling.
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