There’s an Old Flame Burning In Your Eyes

"You’re pregnant!" My ex-husband, Mr. Perfect, blurted out as I waddled around the corner, holding the hand of the son we share.
 
"Yes, I am." I agreed with him. I had told him about my pregnancy a couple months ago, leaving a message on his voice mail after we’d seen the sonogram, requesting that he tell Bubba that he was going to have a little brother. I didn’t really think that he needed a formal announcement and he had been informed, so I had left he issue at that. Now his green eyes were fixed on my swollen stomach and he was making me uncomfortable. I struggled to think of something to day.
 
"Bubba wanted to bring a couple hot wheels to your house. I packed one for him and one for your girlfriend’s son. Do you mind if he takes his lemonade with him?"
 
At last Perfect tore his gaze away from my mid-section. It seemed to take him a moment to process the question but at last the pained expression he wore left his face, replaced with an angry glare.
 
"Does he really need the lemonade?" he snapped, then changed his mind. "Fine, whatever, give it to me! Hurry up and get in the car, Bubba!" I realized I was somehow irritating him, so I waved to Bubba, blew him a kiss and returned to my apartment.
 
Up until this point, Perfect and I had unofficially declared a truce. We had managed to put aside our differences and had been engaging in civil, if not completely pleasant, conversations about issues essential to Bubba’s well-being. We had even begin to make unofficial concessions in the custody agreement like me watching Bubba tonight when Perfect’s baby sitter had canceled. What did I do to make Perfect act so hostile again? I related the scenario to Excitement and he found the answer obvious.
 
"He still loves you. He knew you were pregnant, but it’s still a shock to see the woman who used to be your wife all knocked up with someone else’s kid."
 
What he said made sense. Bubba had frequently repeated things his father had said or relayed things he had done that made me wonder if he still had feelings for me. His behavior today was that of a jealous man and in some ways I suppose that’s natural. I still feel a prick of jealousy when I read the X-rated comments Perfect’s girlfriend leaves on his myspace page. Even the fact that I still visit his page every other month probably indicates unresolved feelings towards him. I still vividly remember all the ways he mistreated me in our marriage, but hate is closely akin to love and I did love him at one time.
 
All that being said, I feel a perverse pleasure in knowing that I’ve made him jealous. A twisted part of me wants to call him up and say "Haha! You had me and you lost me! Eat your heart out!" So how immature am I?