Not even a little.
He sat near the window with his beer halfway to his mouth, staring at the package in Richard’s hand.
Then his gaze shifted toward me.
Something changed in his expression.
Not pity.
Something heavier.
“Rich,” David said quietly.
Richard continued talking.
“Richard.”
This time David spoke louder.
The mood in the room shifted.
A few of the men looked toward him.
Richard laughed.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re about to lecture me. It’s a joke. She’s fine. Right, honey?”
He looked at me.
That was what he always did.
He expected me to smile.
To smooth everything over.
To reassure everyone that Richard hadn’t crossed a line.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
David calmly set his beer on the table.
Then he stood up.
“Sit down, man,” Richard said. “Come on. The second half is starting.”
David ignored him.
He crossed the room, gently removed the package from Richard’s hand, and placed it on the coffee table.
The laughter vanished.
“Game’s over for me,” David said. “I’m leaving.”
Richard stared at him.
“Come on. Don’t be dramatic. It was a joke.”
David turned toward him.
His voice stayed calm.
“Belinda carried three babies for nine months. Her body went through something enormous bringing your children into this world. If you think her recovery is entertainment, then you’ve become someone I don’t recognize.”
No one moved.
David grabbed his coat and walked out.
For several seconds, the television commentator was the only sound in the room.
Then Marcus stood up.
He picked up his jacket.
“Yeah. I’m leaving too.”
Two more men followed him.
As they passed me, they quietly said things like,
“Sorry, Belinda.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Take care.”
I couldn’t respond.
I only nodded.
Richard tried to laugh it away.
“Wow. Sensitive crowd tonight.”
Nobody laughed.
The remaining guests quickly finished their drinks and left shortly afterward.
When the front door finally shut, Richard turned toward me.
“Are you happy now?”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“You couldn’t just laugh it off? You stood there acting like I had done something terrible. Do you know how that made me look?”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
“You held up my private underwear in front of six men.”
“I made a joke. That’s what I do. Now David gets to play the hero and everyone will be talking about this tomorrow.”
I said nothing.
I carried the plates into the kitchen, set them down, walked upstairs, and closed the bedroom door.
Then I sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the triplets breathing through the baby monitor.
One shifted.
Another sighed.
The third stayed perfectly quiet.
I didn’t cry.
