Julian was now working as an entry-level accounts manager for a small logistics firm across town, earning a fraction of his former salary and paying half of it back in legal settlements and child support.
A soft chime sounded at the front door.
I stood up, holding Maya on my hip, and opened it to find my mother standing on the porch holding a basket of fresh muffins and a toy for Maya.
“How are my favorite girls doing today?” my mother smiled, stepping inside and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.
“We are doing wonderfully,” I laughed, taking the basket.
We walked into the bright, sunny kitchen—the very kitchen where, six months ago, I had sat weeping in silence while my husband lied to my face over the phone.
