Two Halves or a Whole?

His family noticed his mood, and they let him brood. When his nieces came to play with him, he roused himself, chasing them until they shrieked, but when they were finished he got quiet again. Pete left with his parents shortly after eating. No one lingers at a funeral.

* * * * *

"I don't know what to do now, Jen. He's still just shattered."

Jenny nodded. "I know. He needs some intensive attention and TLC. But I doubt he'll let anyone close enough to give it."

"Did you find out if he's dating anyone?"

"No. Didn't want to go there. But look at him, Gwyn -- no way he's seeing anyone."

"What can I do? I can't see how I can help."

"Maybe stop by his parents' house tomorrow to wish his dad a happy birthday."

"I couldn't. They haven't said a word to me since they found out."

"You know there's no painless way to do this, right?" Jenny asked. "It's going to be even harder than putting yourself back together."

"I know that," Gwyn snapped. "I know that better than anyone."

"Do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You say you'll do anything, but you dither about going by his parents' house because they might say mean things or shut the door in your face. If you want to help Pete, you're going to have to expect that your life is going to be about giving and giving and giving without anything coming back. And it's going to be hard, it's going to hurt, and it's going to last until he either chucks you out completely or gets himself together."

Gwyn was quiet. She saw that Jenny was right. She finally nodded.

"Maybe I've been too respectful. I've been deferring to Pete, waiting for him to tell me what he needs. But maybe he doesn't know either."

"He does seem lost. What did you do when you were married when he got down?"

"Pete never really got down. He was so even-keeled. That's why he's so helpless now. He's never been through this before."

"What did you do when he got pissy or short with something?"

"I just loved on him. Hugged and kissed and snuggled up. Got him in bed and spoiled him with blowjobs. Or I'd get on top and ride him slow and sweet." Gwyn stared off into space for a moment, a soft smile curling her lips. Then she shook her head. "But I can't do that any more."

"Why not?"

"Have you not been paying attention, Jenny?"

"Maybe you need to force him to deal with you. Look, he's hurt. Bad. You know him better than anyone. Get in there with him. As well as you know him, and as much as you want what's best for him, you'll figure out how to help him."

Gwyn thought hard for a few moments. A completely different path appeared in her mind. It might not bring Pete back to her, but it might bring Pete back to himself. And that's what she had pledged to do. She breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. She was resolved.

"He's gonna hate it."

"Yes. But it's for his own good."

"He's gonna hurt me."

"Yes. A lot."

Gwyn nodded. "Okay."

* * * * *

Pete's first session with Mack after his return from Minnesota pissed him off.

"So she told you she wants to help you. You had the chance to tell her how you felt, and you didn't?' Mack probed.

"I told her I was hurt. And that I didn't want her to hurt me again."

"That's good. But do you see that you had an opportunity to say more?"

Pete shrugged. "But why? I'm never getting back with her."

"What about resolving your pain? It might help you to move on if you can tell her how you've felt following her actions. We're not even talking about forgiveness yet."

"How can I forgive her?"

"If you're ever going to move on you'll need to let go of the hurt and the anger. Which is a big part of forgiveness."

"I don't know if I can."

"I don't know if you can either. You're clearly not ready yet. You're the only one who can say when the weight of your pain and your anger isn't worth carrying any longer. But until you do, you're going to feel like this. But you don't have to forgive Gwyn yet. Just tell her what you feel because of her actions. It's a step towards your ultimate destination."

"So she guts me, and I have to fix it," Pete snapped.

Mack hesitated, then said simply, "Yes."

It was so much bullshit. Pete brooded the rest of the week and even cancelled his next visit with Mack. During their next session together Mack called out Pete's resentment, which just made Pete more bitter. He wasn't looking forward to their next meeting either.

Pete made himself focus on the day's task while he showered and ate a quick breakfast. A precision tool-and-die company with four shops was trying to buy out a competitor, but resentments on the target's side made progress slow. The numbers supported the bid they'd developed, but it would need to be sweetened to make the deal happen. Pete hated these situations. His client wanted the deal for scale and now for ego, his boss and her partners wanted the deal for the consulting fee, but Pete wouldn't recommend an offer that wasn't in the buyer's best interest. And that's exactly where his gut said they were heading. It was going to be a day that needed a whole lot of finesse. He hated those days.

The day got immeasurably better when he found that someone had left him a cup of coffee on his desk. It was hot, and it tasted sweeter than he usually made it these days. He smiled. Maybe the day wouldn't completely suck.

"Thanks for the coffee, Mark."

"What coffee?" His analyst looked puzzled.

"You didn't bring me a Starbucks?"

"Nope. You got a secret admirer?"

"That'll be the day. Wonder who it was then?"

"Could have been that woman who was in here earlier. Shorter. Dark hair."

"Hmm. I don't know anyone like that." Pete shook his head, then shrugged. "Let's dig in on Jackson Tool and see if we can make everyone happy."

They couldn't. They had their admin order in sandwiches for lunch, and it was nearing six o'clock when Pete gave up for the day. He thought about heading to the gym before grabbing a bite, but he was hungry and pretty fried. He yawned as he left the building and headed towards the garage.

"Hi, Pete."

His brain was slow, and she wasn't supposed to be here, so it took him quite a while before he recognized Gwyn. She looked great in a navy suit and white blouse. She wore navy flats and held a thin portfolio.

"What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him. "I got a new job. I live here now. I thought I'd let you know so it wouldn't be too shocking when we run into each other."

"I don't believe it." His mind struggled to track.

"No, really. And remember, if there's anything I can do for you just say the word. I'm here to help you. Your happiness is my priority."

Pete's anger flashed. "This is bullshit!"

Gwyn gave a little shrug. "This is atonement."

Pete ground his teeth, his breathing hard and fast. He began vibrating in rage. Finally he just yelled, "Fuck you, Gwyn!"

Her expression didn't change as he stomped away from her. She ignored the slack-jawed stares of the few people around who witnessed his outburst. She was sure there was worse ahead.

* * * * *

For dinner Gwyn made a quinoa bowl with roasted cauliflower and sweet potato, avocado, fresh salsa, and sunflower seeds. She ate it while watching videos. When it got late enough for Jenny to be home, Gwyn called her cousin.

"I talked to Pete today."

"How did that go?"

Gwyn chuckled. "He told me to fuck off."

"As expected."

"Yeah. I'm sure it will get worse before it gets better. If it gets better."

"Hang in there, girl. You're doing the right thing."

"Yeah."

"How's the job?"

"It's fine. It's going to take a while to prove myself to the company. Although it's a nice break to be back to an individual contributor. It'll make keeping tabs on Pete much easier."

"How are you keeping tabs on him."

"I'm not stalking him. I dropped off a coffee for him this morning. I'll text him tomorrow, offer to get him something while I'm at the grocery store."

"You're making a special trip, aren't you."

"Of course. Although I have to eat too, you know," Gwyn laughed softly. "I'll just reach out once a day. No pressure, just things like 'I'm thinking about you' and 'Can I get you something while I'm out' kinda things. I want to be annoying enough that I'm top of mind but not so annoying that he shuts me out."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, cuz. I'm going to need it!"

* * * * *

"It's ridiculous! I hear from her every day. Every single day!"

Pete raged for a couple minutes about Gwyn. Mack kept his professional distance, but he was pleased. Gwyn probably didn't have more than an intuitive sense of it, but what she had done by moving to New York and interacting daily with Pete was just what her ex-husband needed. Her persistent presence in his life forced him to deal with his demons. And he was seething.

"What doesn't she understand? I don't want anything to do with her. If she wants to help me like she says then she needs to leave me alone!"

Mack was quiet for a moment. "You've said she feels guilty for what she did to your marriage. Maybe she's not really trying to help you. Maybe she's trying to help herself."

"I knew it! That... that bi--, ah, that's just so... so selfish!"

Interesting, Mack thought. Pete wouldn't call Gwyn names. He pushed a little more.

"What's so bad about what she's doing? I mean, she hurt you, and now she's doing thoughtful things to make it better."

"She can never make it better! She needs to just leave me alone!"

"A lot of people would appreciate someone else taking an interest in their lives."

"Not like this! Anyone else would be fine. Just not her!"

Mack nodded. Definitely unstuck.

"What's the downside here, Pete? What's the worst that can happen by having her doing little thoughtful things for you?"

"It reminds me of what she did!"

"You've known for more than two years what Gwyn did. You've told me that you think about it every day. So what's changed?"

"She's here! Seeing her just reminds me of it."

"Reminds you of what she did? Or reminds you of your time together?"

Pete went suddenly still. Goddamn it, Mack, he thought. That's exactly what the problem was. Her behavior echoed the time they were married, and it reminded him of what they'd lost. He slumped with the recognition.

Mack pressed on, but with a soft and gentle voice. "Do you think you're angry because she reminds you of how much you hurt? Keeps your pain in the forefront instead of buried away?"

Pete sat completely still for several moments. Finally he shrugged and said quietly, "I guess so."

"Do you think she's engaging with you so she can hurt you?"

"No. She's not like that."

"So she doesn't intend to hurt you. She's doing thoughtful things to ease your day. What's the worst that can happen here?"

"I can't depend on her. I just can't. She's shown she can devastate me. I can't trust her."

"You're in control of how much you depend on her. You can take the coffees, the offers to pick up your lunch or dinner or groceries, the encouraging texts, the bottle of your favorite wine without committing anything at all to her."

"I can't trust her."

"You hold all the cards here, Pete. Your relationship only goes as far as you let it. Do you think you might want to have a relationship with Gwyn?"

Pete sat glumly. He was mute.

* * * * *

The microwave beeped. Gwyn's soup was ready at the same moment the bread slice popped up from the toaster. She took her supper to the island separating the kitchen from the main room in her one-bedroom apartment. She'd originally thought about an extended-stay hotel, but that vibe was just too transitory. She wanted everything she did to show her commitment to Pete.

She took grim pleasure in her campaign to connect with him.

She did one thing for him every day, but only one thing. She never insisted, never forced anything, never made her actions too overt. She kept herself visible, but not everpresent. She left him coffee a couple times a week, changing up the days. She'd text him from Wegmans or Walgreen's to ask him if he needed anything while she was there. She took a picture of a Molson six-pack and asked if she should drop it by. Once she saw a LinkedIn post announcing a service anniversary for his job, so she wrote "Congratulations! When they hired you they got the best ever!" She sent him funny memes about bicycle riders or consultants or people from Minnesota. Today she sent him a picture of a cliff that loomed above a still lake, telling him it reminded her of home. Once or twice a week she would linger across the street from his office or condo or gym and wait until he came out before walking purposefully down the sidewalk. She wouldn't look at him, so she could never tell if he noticed her.

Usually she got no response from Pete. A couple times he told her to stop.

Gwyn was also befriending his colleagues, running into them "accidentally" and guiding the conversation until they discovered that they both knew Pete. She'd caution them that she was his ex, and that he wouldn't appreciate hearing about her, but she'd stay in touch, arrange for casual lunches or meet in groups after work. She never brought up Pete in conversation, but since they all knew that she knew him, they'd tell her one or two nuggets about him each time. Most of his coworkers thought he was a nice guy but wound very tight.

It took her a few weeks, but Gwyn had a good handle on the structure of Pete's life. Most of it was work. And he really was outperforming there. He delivered more projects than anyone else, including some very large deals. It helped that he could devote sixty or seventy or sometimes eighty hours a week to his job. He had no conflicting obligations. He did go out for drinks after work occasionally, but after an hour relaxing he either went back to the office or hit the gym. He'd ride with his cycling group most Saturdays, anywhere from forty to eighty miles. Gwyn had befriended a couple of his riding buddies too. In the two-plus months since she'd moved, she had yet to hear about any dating, which made her both a little sad and a lot hopeful.

She bided her time. Patience wasn't usually one of her virtues, but this time she immersed herself in it. Each day was its own reward. And penance.

* * * * *

"Car back!"

Pete never saw it. He was pedaling at the front of the pack of eight riders and had just pulled off the lead when the SUV drifted right and touched his back wheel. He went down fast and hard. His helmet cracked on impact but did its job. Pete regained consciousness just before the paramedics arrived in their ambulance.

"How are you feeling, sir?"

"My head really hurts."

"You probably have a concussion. I'm going to ask you some questions. Will that be all right?"

"Sure, but my head really hurts."

The paramedic went through several questions about Pete's vision and hearing, had him squeeze her hand a couple times, asked him to follow her finger with his eyes. She helped him to stand and watched his balance. It was hard to stand confidently on cleated cycling shoes.

"You almost certainly have a concussion, sir. We're going to take you in to the hospital and have them assess. They'll also clean up the scrapes on your knee and arm. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure." Pete's head throbbed.

The trip to the emergency room was fast, and a nurse quickly washed and bandaged his road rash. He had to wait a while before a doctor saw him about his head. The concussion diagnosis was straightforward and only needed an image to confirm there wasn't more serious damage.

"There's no need to admit you," the doctor told Pete. "Do you have someone who can stay with you in case you feel nauseous or dizzy?"

"Not really."

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "No one? Just for a day or two?"

"Not really. My family is in Minnesota."

"Friends? Work colleague?"

"Let me text some people."

He started with his biking group. They'd already blown up his phone with inquiries about his injuries.

► Concussion. Need someone 2 stay w/ me. Any takers?

The replies came fast, but without satisfaction.

► Sorry, bro, cant today

► Can give u ride home. Cant stay long

► Hang in there.

► Can't leave kids. Feel better!

► Sorry. Glad ur ok tho

He texted his boss and work team. Their responses came slower, but the answers were the same. His boss told him to take the time he needed to heal. She asked Pete to keep her apprised of his recovery. Mark offered to bring Pete whatever he needed.

"Anyone?" the doctor asked when he returned.

Pete shrugged. "No one to stay. But several will be checking in on me."

"Then we're going to keep you overnight for observation. You're not going home without someone to monitor you."

"I'll be fine. I'll call the hospital if I'm not feeling well."

"You're not really in the best position to be assessing that."

"I'll be fine. I have people to check on me."

"Sorry. You need to be monitored. I'll start the admitting process now."

Crap.

* * * * *

On Monday, Gwyn dropped off a medium coffee with sugar and cream at Pete's desk before heading to her office. As she exited she saw Mark walking through the door. She brightened when she saw him.

"Good morning, Mark! You're getting an early start."

Mark shrugged. "With Pete out I'll need every minute I can get."

"Is he traveling?"

"Only between the bed and the sofa. You probably didn't hear that he got hit by a car on his bike Saturday. They kept him at the hospital overnight, and I gave him a ride home yesterday. He's got a concussion."

"Oh, God, no!" She rushed past Mark, pulling her phone out as she quick-walked away in her low heels. She called her boss and said that she had a family emergency. She knew exactly where Pete lived, and she was parking in front of his condo building within five minutes.

It took Pete a few minutes to get to the door, and Gwyn felt more and more agitated. He'd been in the bathroom when the bell first rang, and Gwyn buzzed three more times before he opened it.

His eyes were dull, and he was listless even when he recognized Gwyn. He sighed.

"What do you want, Gwyn?"

"Jesus, Pete. You look awful." She squeezed past him and walked into his condo. One part of her was humming with excitement -- she hadn't dared dream she'd ever be here! -- but most of her was concerned for Pete, and she focused on him. It took all of her self-control to not squeeze him into a hug. "What do the doctors want you to do?"

"I'm supposed to rest. What do you want?"

"I told you that I was here to help you. That's what I want. And that's what you'll let me do until you're able to manage yourself."

He slowly closed the door and shuffled into the living room. "I'm managing just fine."

"Really?" Gwyn waved her hand to the kitchen where dirty dishes were spread over the counter. She also saw an open half-gallon of milk and a banana peel mixed in. "You lie down, and I'll take care of this mess in no time."

Pete had no energy with which to fight, so he moved slowly to the sofa and lay down. He put his arm over his eyes.

Gwyn put her purse down on the raised counter between the living room and kitchen. She rinsed off the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, felt that the milk carton was still cool so she put it in the fridge, and tossed the banana peel and a couple empty boxes of microwave dinners into the trash. She wiped the counters down with the sponge he'd let dry out behind the sink.

She moved through his condo with purpose. This was exactly why she moved here. She was going to help Pete through this crisis. Gwyn didn't know if it would be enough, but it was at least a start. It took her nearly an hour, but she changed the sheets on his bed, started a load of laundry, swapped out towels in the master bathroom, and vacuumed both bedrooms -- one used as an office -- and the hallways.