Just that.
Then I found out he’d been cheating on me while I was pregnant, and he moved in with his fiancée before our divorce was even final.
Since then, I had been baking cakes in borrowed kitchens at night, just to afford a flight to see my mom, Carol, after chemo.
She kept telling me not to come, which was exactly how I knew I needed to.
***
Instead, my baby, Owen, woke up hot, fussy, and soaked through his onesie, and I stood there near Gate 14, juggling a diaper bag, a carry-on, and the last of my patience, while two teenagers pretended not to stare at the spit-up on my shirt.
I found out he’d been cheating on me while I was pregnant.
“Okay,” I muttered to Owen, shifting him higher on my shoulder. “It’s still technically a vacation if we cry in a different city, right?”
He answered with the outraged squawk of a tiny union representative.
I hauled us into the farthest bathroom I could find near the dead end of the terminal.
I had Owen on the changing table and one wipe between my teeth when I heard it.
A thin, broken little cry.
I hauled us into the farthest bathroom.
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