A wave of nausea hit me. I forced myself to smile, though my hands were shaking.
Dinner was torture.
They laughed. They touched hands. He told her the same sweet words he once told **me**.
The same jokes.
The same stories. My mother looked happier than she had been in years.
And that was the worst part. When he got up to get more wine, I followed him into the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
He looked at me, defeated. “I didn’t know she was your mother. I met her by chance.
I didn’t… I didn’t plan this.”
“You left me,” I snapped.
“No explanation. Just vanished.”
He swallowed hard.Continue reading…