Every time, I said something about it, he reacted the same way.
Mark and I had been married seven months.
He gave a little shrug and a patient smile, like I was a kid who had dropped her ice cream.
« Babe, you’re too sensitive, » he’d say. « She’s still family. »
Still family. That was his phrase, as if divorce were just a long vacation.
So when he told me he wanted her at his birthday, I should have seen the whole night coming. Did I? Honestly, no.
Nothing could ever have prepared me for that night.
« She’s still family. »
« You have a new family now, » I said. « We have a baby on the way. »
He hugged me and kissed my hair. « You’re taking it the wrong way. I promise. »
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