The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

standing in the kitchen, hollow.

“We need to talk,” I said.

His face went blank. “What are you talking about?”

“Your phone. I saw the messages.”

He stared at me. Then shrugged. “You shouldn’t have been looking at my phone.”

“You’ve been cheating on me, and that’s what you’re focusing on?”

He rolled his eyes. “Cheating. God, such a dramatic word.”

“What would continue reading …