Once they were less emotional, they finish unwrapping the pictures all the way. They showed France's family the paintings. To my surprise, they started to gush over it.

Blake's mom, Mary, turned to me, "Who made all of these. They are beautiful."

"I did them," I said shocked because this is the first time since the divorce that Mary has talked to me without malice.

They continued to gush over the paintings until Jenny and France had to leave. They planned to go out clubbing for the night wanting to have some alone time away from the kids.

They left and took Blake's parents with them to drop them off on their way. Zach left shortly after claiming he had to work early in the morning.

It was just Blake and I left in the house. I ignored him and quietly started to clean the dishes on the table bringing them to the kitchen.

Blake followed my lead and helped me bring the dishes. We brought all the dishes to the kitchen and finished cleaning both the kitchen and the living room.

It was like an unspoken agreement we had to clean it all up without a word.

We stood by the sink starting to wash the dishes. Just like old times, I washed the dishes as Blake dried them.

We finished cleaning them and started to stack the dishes in their rightful places. I grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses in case Blake wanted a drink.

I walked to the living room and placed the glasses and bottle down. Once I collapsed on the couch, I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened my eyes, I saw Blake sitting on the couch across from me. He was just staring at me.

I silently poured us both a glass of red wine and passed him a glass. I grabbed my glass and swallowed it down in one go and poured myself another. We drank the wine in silence.

I sighed knowing we had to talk eventually. I just didn't know which of us would take that risk.

"Blake..." He turned to look at me when I said his name. Though I had his attention and I knew this was the time to get the closure I needed, I didn't know how to start the conversation.

Instead of having to continue the conversation, Blake continued it.

"Is it true?" he asked looking at his glass.

"Is what true?" I tried to meet his eyes to see what he meant.

"Everything you said to the police that day..." he paused.

Maybe he paused because he didn't know how to continue or maybe he paused because he didn't want to drag us back to the past. It could have just been because like me, he wanted the closure we both didn't know how to get.