By the third, I’d stopped checking my phone.
Reid’s mother still introduced me as his « friend, » our wedding rings apparently decorative.
Once, when Reid corrected her, she said, « You know what I mean. Don’t make a scene. »
As though acknowledging our marriage was somehow more embarrassing than pretending it didn’t exist.
But we wanted a family.
Then we met Willa.
She was four, blind since birth, and had moved through several foster homes.
At our first visit, she sat beside me with a stuffed rabbit, rubbing its worn ear.
I got up for water.
Her hand shot out and caught my sleeve.
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