Her Name Was Annie

detour my life could’ve ever taken. I had the perfect setup; my mother would watch her as a baby while I was at work. I had all the major holidays off and summers to spend with her. What more could I ask for?
The entire time I was pouring myself into motherhood, Jack was giving every ounce of himself to his career. Maybe I had made it too easy for him to do. Always being the one keeping everything perfectly balanced in our life. It was something I came to accept, knowing it went hand in hand with his job, but in the interterm of trying to be the best mother and understanding wife, I lost a piece of myself.
I saw all the red flags of a troubled marriage long before the final nail was put in the coffin. We had drifted further and further apart. Instead of facing our problems together, we went at them alone—or shall I say, I did. Jack tried to tackle it as a team, but I just pushed him away. I tried telling myself things would get better—I would get better and put our marriage back together, but when I met her, I knew that would never be a possibility any longer.
We were at a work party for Jack, I had just turned forty and was feeling insecure in that fact alone, but when I saw her, that insecurity skyrocketed to a whole new level. Super skinny, brunette, blue eyes, perfect hair, perfect teeth, and at least ten years my junior—and Jack’s. He introduced her as his colleague, Charmaine. My sixth sense kicked in immediately, and I knew she was much more than just a colleague. I had never forgotten the look on her face when he pulled me close and kissed me on my cheek in front of her. It was as if he were cheating on her with me and not vice versa.
I still to this day don’t know why he did that. Was he trying to make her jealous or was he trying to convince himself that he was still in love with me? When we got home that night, I thwarted his attempts at sex and finally confronted him about it. After a poor attempt at denying it, he came clean, swearing to me that it only happened once and it was me he loved. But it was too late, my trust had been broken along with my heart. He moved out the next day and our divorce had become final a few months after that.
I shook my head, fighting off the what-ifs. What if I had gone to see a counselor like he had begged me to do? What if I had taken him back during his many drunken midnight attempts at my doorstep? It was all in the past now. I’d always have a place in my heart for him as the father of my child, but I’d also have the memory of him being a cheater marked in my mind.
As the first drops of rain fell from the clouds, I took that as my warning to head inside. I picked up my wine bottle along with my glass and stood up, sucking in the cool, salty air one last time. Wiping the sand off my backside, I focused my attention toward the water, catching a glimpse of a man walking along the edge of the ocean. Even from a distance, I could sense he was deep in thought. I eyed him up keenly, ignoring the raindrops pelting me in the face. He tilted his head back, looking up at the sky, then turned around in my direction, seeming to be as focused on me as I was on him. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look, but it was useless. He had turned away, then took a few wary steps into the water.
What is he doing? It was mid-November. The water was freezing, not to mention the incessant warnings of the approaching storm and riptides.
“Hey!” I shouted, but it was useless. My voice was no match for the powerful waves or the roaring wind. My eyes darted up and down the beach to see if there was someone else with him, but it was deserted. “Hey!” I bellowed once again, dropping my wine bottle and glass in the sand, taking double strides toward the water as the man submersed himself farther and farther into the depths of Mother Nature’s wrath. “Mister!” I screamed, standing at the edge of the ocean as the cool mist from the water shrouded my face. Stepping in farther, I stopped once the water hit my knees, soaking right through my sneakers and saturating my jeans. I remained steady on my feet, battling with the ferocious undertow as I searched amongst the relentless white caps for a sign of him, but he was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared—swallowed up into the depths of the ocean as if he’d never even existed.

Chapter 2
DARKNESS HAD FALLEN, and the rain was coming down in sheets as I stared down at the beach area from the kitchen window. The beach was lit up by massive spotlights and an array of red and blue flashing lights from the emergency vehicles. The last two hours had been spent answering questions and brewing pots of coffee to take out to the police officers and the volunteers searching for the mystery man in the sea. I said a prayer they’d find him, but knew the chances of him being alive were less than favorable, given the current conditions. Who was he? And what on earth could have been so troubling that he’d take such drastic measures? I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. What if I had seen him sooner? Could I have talked him out of it?
“Steph.” An all too familiar voice broke me from my trance.
“Jack.” I turned my attention from the window to face him, catching a small glimpse of the man I