One year after my divorce, my ex-mother-in-law saw me at the clinic and smiled with that smug satisfaction I knew too well. She told me her son had been right to leave me and that he was now raising a daughter with my former friend. I stayed composed, smiled back, and said, “Is that what you think?” Then a man walked in, and every trace of color drained from her face.
A year after the divorce, my ex-mother-in-law spotted me in the waiting room of Westbridge Fertility Clinic in Denver.
Patricia Parker wore pearls, heavy perfume, and the same self-satisfied smile she had worn in court when my ex-husband, Ryan, claimed our marriage had been “emotionally empty.” I had not seen her since the divorce hearing, when she embraced Megan Ellis, my former best friend, right in front of me.
Now Patricia stopped next to my chair and looked me over from head to toe.
“Well,” she said, loud enough for the receptionist to hear, “isn’t this interesting?”
I closed the folder resting in my lap. “Hello, Patricia.”
