Which meant… while I was pregnant, Spencer had been sleeping with Nancy.
And she had been commenting on all my posts, sending baby clothes wrapped in pastel tissue paper, and acting like my joy was hers to share.
I gazed at the screen until my chest went numb. Not tight, not panicked, just numb, like my body knew it had to protect itself from going under.
Spencer always told me his job required travel. I’d kissed my husband goodbye at the airport, promising his favorite meals when he got back home. I always texted him goodnight. I always made sure that Olive said goodnight to him on FaceTime.
But he wasn’t flying for work. He was flying straight to… Nancy.
So, I planned.
The next morning, I texted Nancy and suggested that we meet again for one last ice cream trip before she left town.
“The kids seemed to really get along, Nancy! I want to have another series of moments that we can remember for a long time to come.”
She replied almost immediately, telling me how happy she was that we could move past the terrible moment from the day before.
“Kids say the weirdest things, don’t they, Bri? But sure! We’ll see you and Olive wherever you want.”
I told her that I’d make the reservation. I chose a café known for its enormous sundaes and family-friendly booths.
We arrived a little before noon. Connor arrived holding a toy truck. Nancy looked radiant, like nothing had fractured her perfect image.
But halfway through, I excused myself.
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