I felt sick.
My mother chose my father—sort of. She ended things with Richard again, this time for good (or so she says). But she also started individual therapy. She admitted that the triangle wasn’t about Richard at all. It was about a woman who married at twenty-two, became a mother at twenty-four, and never learned how to want things for herself. my moms love triangle 2
“So this is an affair.”
Not the dutiful kind. The hungry kind. I agreed to meet them both—my mother and Richard—at a diner on the edge of town. She wanted me to “see that he’s not a monster.” I wanted to see if the monster had simply learned to wear a better mask. I felt sick