When Barely Husband and Raven arrived Thursday night, they came to mine.
BH had agreed to be at the house for one of the million inspections the buyer has requested. Previously, I had taken time off work or kindly asked my sweet and retired neighbours to be there.
He lives an hour away so it’s not like he could pop in to do it instead but, this time, he would already be off.
He suggested coming straight from the airport. It made sense or they would get to his at 3am and have to be at mine by 1pm.
Raven was going rollerskating with a friend and her friend would come for a sleepover. It was going to be a girly night.
But BH stayed. I expected him to leave as soon as it was all done but he didn’t. I really needed to go out so we went for a drink. It wasn’t late. It was 6pm and he was meant to go home right after it. But he had more than the legal driving limit.
We had a good time, talking about work anecdotes, laughing and discussing possible changes for our arrangements (another post). This type of interaction is what brought us together.
No, this post isn’t going where you think it is. Nothing happened. I didn’t feel anything romantic. We could have been friends had the situation been different. In fact, I even flirted a little with the cutest guy at the bar (without BH noticing, obvs).
When we got back, Raven was fuming to find out he was staying. I saw it in her eyes. She managed to find an excuse to go upstairs with her friend. I sneaked there a few minutes later and she was ranting.
“Why is he staying?” she asked me.
“He can’t drive with what he had to drink. I can’t exactly kick him out, can I?”
“Mom, he’s getting attached again. You need to set limits. You don’t want to get back with him so don’t let him get attached.”
“My dad did the same thing to my mom,” her friend, H, said. “It’s not healthy.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” I pleaded.
Raven calmed down a little, we talked and I thanked heaven H was there.
But they’re right. When we move, I need to set stricter boundaries. This is not good.