“You really thought I wouldn’t come?”
The words hung in the air, sharp and clear, as every conversation in that sun-drenched backyard came to an abrupt halt. I watched my ex-husband’s face drain of color while his new, very pregnant wife clutched his arm like her life depended on it. This was the same man who’d thrown divorce papers at me two years ago, telling me I was “defective goods” because I couldn’t give him children. Now, he stood frozen as four toddlers tumbled out of a white Lamborghini behind me.
