The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

not how this works.”

“I don’t know. A couple of years. Off and on.”

“Two years. Our daughter is three.”

“So?”

“So you were cheating on me while I was dealing with postpartum depression.”

“You’re going to leave? Over some messages? You think your parents are going to be proud of that?”

The mention of my parents sent a spike of cold through my chest.

“Think continue reading …