Six months.
While I’d been planning his birthday.
While he’d been kissing me goodnight.
Vanessa turned toward him.
“You told me you were separating.”
Sam closed his eyes.
“I said things were complicated.”
“You said you were sleeping in separate rooms.”
I almost laughed.
“We sleep in the same bed.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“You told me Rachel knew.”
“Can we discuss this privately?” Sam whispered.
“No,” I said.
“You’ve had six months for private conversations.”
Patricia stepped forward.
Then slowly wiped icing from her silver hair.
“Sam was unhappy. Vanessa understood him long before you came along.”
Vanessa turned sharply.
“Don’t pretend you’ve always wanted me around.”
Patricia blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You spent 11 years telling me I wasn’t good enough for your son.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Vanessa’s voice shook.
“You criticized how I raised Lily. You called me selfish for working. You even told Sam I was a terrible mother.”
Patricia straightened.
“I was trying to help.”
“You made me miserable.”
Vanessa looked at Sam.
“And every time I asked him to defend me, he said you didn’t mean it.”
I watched my husband stare at the floor.
“That’s why you divorced?” I asked.
Vanessa nodded.
“I begged him to choose our marriage. He kept promising things would change.”
She touched one diamond earring.
“Then I left.”
I remembered our second date.
Sam had sat across from me, describing his divorce.
“Vanessa stopped loving me,” he’d said.
I’d reached across the table.
Held his hand.
Promised I would never abandon him.
Now I looked at Vanessa.
“He told me you walked away because you wanted someone better.”
Her eyes filled.
“He told everyone that.”
Patricia scoffed.
“Well, you did leave him.”
“After 11 years of being treated like an outsider.”
Vanessa turned back to Sam.
“When you called me six months ago, you said you’d changed.”
Sam said nothing.
“You said you’d finally learned to defend the woman you loved.”
I felt something inside me collapse.
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
“I believed you.”
Then she looked at me.
“And I was cruel tonight. I wanted you to feel like I’d won.”
She glanced at the ruined cakes.
“I hadn’t won anything.”
She looked at Sam.
“And I’m not coming back to you. Not now. Not ever.”
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me still did.
But another part recognized that exhausted expression.
I’d seen it in my own mirror.
Then Vanessa looked around the table.
“Where’s Lily?”
Patricia stiffened.
“She couldn’t come.”
“She told me last week she wanted to.”
Sam answered quickly.
“She changed her mind.”
I frowned.
“Sam told me Lily refused weeks ago.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“She bought you a present.”
Sam looked toward the door.
“Vanessa, stop.”
“She told me she wanted to surprise you. When did you tell her not to come?”
I felt cold.
Three weeks earlier, I’d asked Sam whether we should invite his daughter.
He’d been standing in our kitchen.
Cutting an apple.
“Don’t bother,” he’d said.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with us.”
I’d suggested calling her anyway.
He’d shaken his head.
“Rachel, please. You’re only making things worse.”
Now Vanessa was reaching for her phone.
“I’m calling her.”
Sam grabbed her arm.
“Don’t.”
Vanessa pulled away.
“Why?”
He couldn’t answer.
She called.
Lily picked up after three rings.
“Mom?”
“Sweetheart, where are you?”
“Home. Why?”
“Your father’s birthday dinner is happening now.”
A pause.
“Dad told me not to come.”
I watched Sam close his eyes.
Vanessa’s voice softened.
“Why?”
“He said Rachel wouldn’t be comfortable having me there.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?” I whispered.
Vanessa put the phone on speaker.
“Rachel’s here, Lily.”
Another pause.
Then a quiet voice.
“She is?”
I stepped closer.
“Lily, I wanted you here.”
Nothing.
Then Lily said something I’ll never forget.
“That’s not what Dad told me.”
I looked at Sam.
Eight years.
Eight years of believing his daughter hated me.
“Where are you?” Vanessa asked.
“At my apartment. I’m only 15 minutes away.”
“Can you come?”
“I don’t know.”
I heard her breathing.
