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The remainder of the month was a whirlwind. Kari said she loved me and I knew I loved her. We flirted at work and made love almost every time we were alone. Her next migraine came when I was not around, and her mom took her into the hospital... this time she was in for three days, admitted to the psychiatric ward to watch for possible addiction to the painkiller. Kari was completely pissed. When she got out, though, Kari was bent on doing what she could to keep me in her life. She spent the day of her second wedding anniversary filing for divorce. She asked me to help her move into another farmhouse owned by the same landlord, this one up in Mindoro. I helped her clean out of the old house and into the new. Once she moved out, the migraines from which she'd suffered were never so severe that she required a trip to the hospital... in fact, in all my time with her after that she'd only had one, and that was gone with Aleve and massage in less than an hour. We spent nearly every non-working hour together. It was the start of something wondrous and beautiful... something of the sort I'd quit dreaming about for fear of getting my hopes too high. During a visit to my mom's house that month, I went upstairs, gave her a hug, and all I said was, "Hi, Mom. How are you doing?" She took one look at me and said, "It's so good to see you happy." She was right. For the first time since my camping trip in Alberta two years before, I was indeed truly happy, and for the first time since my separation and divorce, the object of my affection did not spend more time with any other man than me. |