Christopher raised both hands. “I was trying to help.”
Nathan stared at him. “You lied to all of us.”
Christopher stepped toward me. “Let’s talk outside.”
“No.”
“Marie, don’t walk out angry.”
“I’m walking out clear.”
“You lied to all of us.”
I looked at Holly. “Your grief is real, Holly. So is my motherhood. As for you, Christopher, don’t come home.”
Then I left before they could turn my pain into a family vote.
I thought that would stop them.
***
Four days later, Tessa sent me a photo of an invitation.
“I thought you should see this. I’m sorry.”
A baby shower at Holly’s house.
“Your grief is real, Holly.”
Not for me.
“For the blessing our family has waited for.”
I packed the folder, Mr. Henderson’s letter, the invitation, and every message into a tote bag.
***
On Saturday, I walked into Holly’s shower with the folder in my tote bag and my daughter moving low in my stomach.
The room was full.
“For the blessing our family has waited for.”
Yellow balloons. Gift bags. Church friends whispering over punch.
The cake sat in the center.
“Welcome Baby Lily.”
Holly saw me and went still.
Christopher stepped toward me. “Marie, let’s go outside.”
“No.”
“This isn’t the place.”
“Welcome Baby Lily.”
