When My Ex-Husband Brought His Young Mistress to Our Son’s Pool Party to Humiliate Me, I Introduced Everyone to My Handsome New “Boyfriend” — He Laughed and Called It Pathetic, Certain I’d Hired an Actor, Until the Man Opened a Small Case and Said One Sentence That Drained the Color From His Face

“Who did you hire, Clover?

Some discount actor from a talent agency?

Come on.

A guy like this would never actually choose a washed-up single mother.

Have you looked in a mirror lately?” The patio went silent.

Conversations died mid-word.

Somewhere a beach ball stopped bouncing.

I felt the heat climb up my neck and into my face, and for one long, awful second, the old reflex took over — the reflex Luke had spent nine years installing in me, the one that said he’s right, you are less than, shrink, apologize, disappear. For one second I wanted the stone patio to crack open and swallow me.