“I’m sorry,” she said.
That was enough.
“How long?”
She swallowed. “About six months.”
I stared at the table.
Six months.
While I pushed the stroller every morning.
While I counted pounds.
While Ryan asked whether I’d “made progress.”
“He told me your marriage was basically over,” Hannah continued. “He said you two barely spoke anymore. That you’d let yourself go after the baby and stopped caring about the relationship.”
I looked up.
She winced.
“I know how awful that sounds.”
“No. Keep going.”
“He said he was going to leave. He just wanted to wait until the timing was right.”
“And then you saw us at the party.”
She nodded.
“He had his hand on you all night. He kept introducing you as his beautiful wife. He looked proud of you.”
I gave a short laugh that didn’t feel like one.
Then I started asking questions.
