The room went silent again.
This time, no one even pretended it was empty silence. It was full of every lie Connor had ever told, every softened version of himself he had offered to different women for different purposes.
I looked at him.
“You told her I gave you permission?”
Connor’s nostrils flared. “You abandoned the marriage.”
A strange calm moved over me.
“No,” I said. “You left.”
“You chose your career over us.”
“I paid for half those treatments. I rearranged shifts. I injected medication into my own body between patients. I had procedures and appointments and losses you refused to even discuss unless someone else was watching.” My voice trembled once, then steadied. “Do not rewrite my grief in front of me.”
Melinda started sobbing quietly.
The baby fussed, sensing the room had changed. She reached for him at once, lifting him carefully from the stroller. He settled against her shoulder, his small hand patting her collarbone.
