"Claire always warmed the plates."
"Claire never bought that brand."
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.
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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."
I almost believed him. Almost.
