Natalie

When I was fifteen, I swore someday I would marry Taylor Hanson. It’s the same thing teenage girls have said for decades, different idols, same sentiment. But my case is rare–I actually did. At eighteen years old, I found myself not only marrying the man whose face had graced my walls, but I was also carrying his child. Dream come true, right?

Well. Sometimes reality’s a little different.

To say our marriage had been difficult would be an understatement. There were countless things threatening to tear us apart; his fame, the fact that his brothers saw him more than I did, the fans that wanted nothing more than to see us fail. I couldn’t even blame them. But there was something else, too. Taylor was unhappy.

I didn’t know if it was something I’d done, or hadn’t done, or if he resented me for how our marriage had started. I didn’t know if it was even me at all, or if he had some personal demons he was battling. I did everything I could, and most of the time he was alright. But there was always a shadow over his eyes, so subtle that I don’t think anyone else even noticed. Maybe Zac; the two of them had always had a close connection. Too close, some people said, but I was glad Taylor had someone he could turn to when I wasn’t enough.

I was in the middle of giving our youngest child a bath when I heard the phone ringing. I looked at the caller i.d., hoping it was someone who could wait, but my husband’s name flashed across the screen. I had a strange feeling, a twist in my gut, that instinctual tell that something major was about to happen. And here I was with soapy hands.

“Hey honey, I was just giving Viggo a bath, what’s up?”

“Hey hun,” he said, and I could instantly sense something was wrong. “Listen… I know this is coming out of nowhere, but I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“Uh huh…” my stomach dropped. Those words rarely brought good news. I peeked around the corner at Viggo, but he was fine, splashing away.

“I… I didn’t want to do this over the phone. But I have to do it now, before I lose my nerve.”

I let my eyes fall closed. This had been coming for a long time. I’d even made an appointment with a lawyer, just to get an idea of what the process would be. Had he seen? I thought I’d been careful, but now I wasn’t sure. But either way, it seemed he was going to be the first to say it.

“Well, you know how you’ve been saying I’m… unhappy?”

“Mhm…” I leaned against the wall, bracing for impact.

“Yeah… well, I know why. I’ve actually known for a while.” He paused, and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m bi.”

I blinked. I waited. That was it?

“You’re… you’re joking.” He had to be. That… that was his huge reveal? I stifled a laugh, not to be mean, but out of relief.

“No, I’m not joking. I almost wish I were.”

“Sweetheart, I…” I cleared my throat. This was obviously a very serious matter for him. “I’m glad you felt like you could tell me. I love you,” I added after a moment.

“I know.” He didn’t say the words back. But had I really expected him to? There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I heard a crash from the bathroom, followed by a cry. Viggo had probably tried to get out on his own.

“Sweetie, I’ve got a soapy toddler to deal with. We’ll talk about this when you get home, alright?”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

“And Taylor?” I chewed my lip, thinking. “Maybe… we have more than just that to talk about.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Bye.”

I hung up the phone and returned to Viggo. As I got him dried and dressed and put to bed, I thought about what Taylor had told me. Of course I’d already known; how could anyone who’d met him not, let alone his wife? But I thought more about what I’d assumed he was about to say. I’d been waiting for it, expecting it, and when it wasn’t what he said, I’d been almost… disappointed?

Divorce.

I could barely think the word, let alone say it out loud. Was that what I really wanted? Why else would I have felt so let down when it wasn’t what he wanted to confess? Why else was I already making appointments, for information I could have just as easily googled? It felt like when you flip a coin, and as it hangs in mid-air, you suddenly realize which side you hope it’ll land on.

As I lay in bed, waiting for my husband to return, I rolled it over in my head. The elephant in the room. Were we heading in that direction? It certainly felt like it, at least on my end. Was I just a horrible wife? I looked at the ring on my finger, spun it around with my thumb. We’d made a promise to each other. But we’d been so young, so naive; could we really know at eighteen, nineteen, what our hearts would want at thirty?

I still loved Taylor, and I always would. But maybe… maybe it really was time to let him go.