My husband stood.
“What does that mean?”
“She said you had become distant. She said your wife was controlling you. She said I should pay attention to whether she acted nervous when people mentioned the baby.”
I stared at my mother.
She looked ashamed.
“I didn’t tell you because I thought she was being dramatic.”
“But you listened.”
“Yes.”
“And when she accused me today, you believed her.”
My mother nodded.
“I did.”
That honesty hurt more than another excuse would have.
My husband looked toward the hallway where his mother had disappeared.
“She was building a story before our son was even born.”
Nobody answered him.
Then my phone buzzed on the bedside table.
My husband picked it up because I couldn’t easily reach it.
There were several missed calls.
All from his mother.
Then another message appeared.
He read it once and went completely still.
“What?” I asked.
