But privacy meant something different to her than it did to me.
If Ethan mentioned we were thinking about replacing the couch, his aunt knew by dinner.
If I told Diane I had an important appointment, she’d call two days later asking how it went.
She called it being close.
I called it exhausting.
Trying for a baby felt different.
I didn’t want questions every month.
I didn’t want relatives watching what I drank at dinner or asking whether I was « glowing. »
For once, I wanted something to belong only to Ethan and me.
Three weeks later, Diane came over for dinner.
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