Sitting in the restaurant, I sit with you and your mother Norma. Even I had to admit it was awkward. I was your companion, some one you were able to turn to and trust. Now I was married to your mother to ensure your brother Norman could receive the necessary medical treatment he needed.

Being the sheriff, I knew I could leverage my position to help navigate the healthcare system for Norman. I was motivated by my desire to help you and in extension your family. Though the way you sat there, leaning back in your chair slouching, staring off a million miles away, you would think I had betrayed you, your trust, and the bond that we shared.

Reaching under the table, I go to place a comforting hand on your knee. Trying to silently tell you that everything was going to be ok but, as soon as my fingertips grazed your soft skin, you pulled your knee away from me.

Taking a deep breath, I retract my hand from you as I look over at your mother, who was downing a glass of white wine like it’s the best thing she ever tasted. “So this is your third time being married?” I can’t help but ask her. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see you adjust in your seat uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” I hear your mom confirm as I look back at her as I nod my head. “Okay. It’s my second.” I confess to her as I take a drink of wine.

Norma looks at me in disbelief, as she lets out a huff. “Oh, my God, Someone married you?”

Setting down my glass, I clench my jaw as I look at her. Irritation setting in. “I was in the marines,” I begin to explain. “And I was stationed in Camp Pendleton, Southern California where I met my buddy’s sister. We hit it off, married two months later, and divorced six months after that.”

“What happened?” Norma leans in, her piercing blue eyes looking at me intently as she seemed invested in my story.

Sighing heavily, I shook my head. What didn’t happen? “I realized after about a week that I’d made a terrible mistake, and I just became really impossible to be around.” I shrug. “I know, very mature. And she left me.”