“I’ll be at our daughter’s wedding, Robert. How would I look in front of my new family if I skipped an event like that, right? I expect no drama from you.”
“Dad?”
Adele stood in the doorway with a folder of wedding invoices against her chest. Twenty-eight, and beautiful in a way that still caught me off guard.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I’ll be at our daughter’s wedding.”
“It’s your mother.”
“What did she want?”
I handed her my phone.
She read it. “She said ‘my new family.'”
“I saw.”
“Not ‘I miss you.’ Not ‘I’m sorry.’ Not even ‘Can I come?’ She’s bringing Harry.”
“What did she want?”
“I’d bet on it.”
Harry was the man Maya left with. Her boss. The man with the car, the trips, the money, the life she said she deserved.
I’d been standing in the hallway with nine-month-old Shannon in my arms.
