She had said the quiet thing aloud. A lot of history together. The whole room heard it — heard that she wasn’t a naive mother blinded by love, but a woman who had always assumed I, the latecomer, should step aside for her son’s tragic college romance.

“Well, Mom,” I whispered.

“You finally told the truth.” She scrambled — “That isn’t what I meant” — but I was already stepping forward.

“Then what did you mean?

You invited his mistress to dinner.

You seated her by your daughter-in-law.