When My Husband Pocket-Dialed Me

to you cry about infertility, and then leaves in the car of the man who made her pregnant.”

She put a hand over her stomach.

“Please don’t talk about the baby like that.”

I looked at her hand.

The baby was innocent. I knew that. Even in my rage, I knew that.

But innocence did not make Lydia innocent.

“I’m not blaming the child,” I said. “I’m blaming you.continue reading …