She held up her wrist proudly.
“We’re bracelet partners.”
I smiled because that was what a loving mother was supposed to do.
“That’s sweet.”
Then I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and pressed both hands against the sink until the ache in my chest settled.
I hated the jealousy growing inside me.
Sarah was not mistreating my daughter.
She was not shouting at her, ignoring her, or making her feel unwanted.
She was loving her.
Why did that feel so much like losing her?
Night after night, I lay awake asking myself the same question.
What kind of mother resents someone for making her child happy?
The Question That Broke Something Open
The moment that changed everything happened during an ordinary bedtime.
Emma was ten by then.
She had brushed her teeth, put on her pajamas, and climbed beneath the blankets with the stuffed rabbit she had owned since preschool.
