But I wasn’t so sure.
I first noticed the subtle comments—those said just under Lydia’s breath. The ones that seemed harmless on their own but, when stacked together, painted a different picture.
“You’re old enough to move on.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“Your mom wouldn’t want you stuck in the past.”
Scott didn’t hear them, or maybe he didn’t want to. I stayed quiet. I told myself it wasn’t my place anymore. Not my house. Not my marriage. Not my decision.
Then Lydia had twins.
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