Grocery Scene

*This prompt actually ended up in one of the stories I wrote, All That You Can't Leave Behind.*

Starting Line: As I was walking down the aisle, I...


As I was walking down the aisle I easily lost myself in the pain that had been last night. A new home. A new city. No friends or family here. Just me and my son and that ex husband who'd decided he finally wanted to be close to me. Only it wasn't me he wanted.

I guess I should have been happy that he was good father. That was the one thing about him that I couldn't complain too much. He spent time with our son. He loved him.

But as I stood there trying to decide on ketchup or catsup, I wondered why it was he couldn't love me. Over the last few months of our marriage he'd turned cold---or more accurately non-existent. For a while I wanted to blame the miscarriages. I wasn't much of a wife to him after suffering those losses. But wasn't he supposed to stand by me? How much easier would it have been to deal with the losses if he'd actually tried to help me cope rather than shut out all of his feelings?

I reached for a bottle but pulled my hand back. Tears were stinging the backs of my eyes. I would not cry again---not for him. Not anymore. I tried fighting for our marriage. Wanted to go to counseling. Begged him to try one more time because I finally felt like I was in a place where I could be his wife in every way.

But he'd said no. The damage was done. We were over. And he didn't fight when I moved out of the house with my parents. He didn't fight when I filed for divorce. He didn't fight when I told him that Adam and I were moving to another state.

No, he didn't fight. Just followed along behind when he seen I was serious about starting over away from him and my family. So typical of him. Always wanting what he can't have and pushing it away when he can.

Then I remembered that smug look on his face when he'd picked Adam up that afternoon. He didn't think I could do it. I'd probably cave in a month and be on the first flight back to Pittsburgh. I would show him.

Tears bitten back, I reached for the ketchup and almost flung it into the cart. The shopper behind me must have thought I was insane. I heard the distinct ruttah-ruttah of broken wheels turning behind me. A bit of a smile on my face though my eyes were brimming with tears, I pushed the cart forward and felt myself go into an almost robotic mode.

That's when I saw him. Tall and gorgeous. An incredibly angular face with a perfectly set square jaw. Sapphire eyes deep set and sparkling. Lips just pouty enough to be considered full. A dark t-shirt and jeans looking as if they were made specifically for him. Waves of chestnut hair looken silken but so thick. He was a bit thin, his muscles well defined but somehow sinewy.

The next words that came out of my mouth were impossibly clear and the moment the words circulated through my hearing and to my brain, I felt my face flash crimson with humiliation. "My husband hasn't slept with me in six months."

Seriously? That's what I said? I felt my face turning even deeper than scarlet. Those words had seriously been uttered aloud? I expected him to laugh at me and go about his shopping, or offer to take me back to his place because obviously my mind was in the gutter.

"Honey, if I was a straight man, there'd be no way I'd let you out of my bed." He grinned at me and almost immediately, I knew I had made my first friend in Indianapolis.