He and Megan had also separated.
One Saturday, Mom found an old photograph of Megan and me celebrating our college graduation.
“Are you keeping this?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Those memories were real to me. I don’t need to pretend twenty-two years of friendship never existed.”
That evening, Lia suggested pizza for dinner.
As I grabbed my keys, Oliver noticed my bare wrist.
“Mom, where’s your bracelet?”
“I gave it away, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t need it anymore.”
He disappeared upstairs.
A minute later, he returned holding a bracelet made from colorful beads.
“I made this for you at school.”
The letters were uneven, and he’d accidentally added an extra E to my name.
I slipped it onto my wrist.
“It’s beautiful, Oliver.”
He grinned.
“Really?”
“Absolutely perfect.”
Standing there with my three children, I finally understood something.
I’d lost the marriage I thought I had.
