I looked at her, still unable to understand how quickly she had turned against me.
Twenty-nine years of knowing me had disappeared behind one accusation from another woman.
“I thought…” My mother swallowed. “I thought your husband’s mother was telling the truth.”
“About what?” I asked.
She looked toward the bassinet.
“That the baby wasn’t…”
She couldn’t finish.
My husband’s jaw tightened.
“Wasn’t what?”
My mother started crying harder.
“She said the baby didn’t look like your husband. She said something was wrong. She said your wife had deceived everyone.”
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I stared at her.
“You believed that because she said it?”
“I was shocked.”
“You hit me because you were shocked?”
My mother covered her face.
“I was wrong.”
The words should have comforted me.
They didn’t.
