I laughed bitterly in the dark car. We were never equals. I was the host. He was the parasite.
And then there was Monica. The betrayal from her cut deeper than the one from Richard. You expect men to be stupid sometimes, but your best friend?
Monica was ten years younger than me. I met her when she was an intern at the charity foundation I managed. She had come to me crying one day because her mother needed surgery and she couldn’t afford it. I wrote the check, a personal check, fifteen thousand dollars. I never asked for it back. When she lost her apartment, I let her stay in my guest house for six months rent-free. When she cried about being single and lonely, I held her hand. And when she told me she was pregnant three months ago, sobbing that the father was a one-night stand who blocked her number, I was the one who wiped her tears.
I remembered taking her shopping just last week. We were at a high-end baby boutique. She had picked out a crib, a ridiculously expensive hand-carved oak crib.
“It’s too much, Laura,” she had said, giving me those wide, innocent doe eyes. “I can’t afford this.”
“Nonsense,” I had replied, handing my credit card to the cashier. “I’m going to be the honorary auntie. I want this baby to have the best.”
I remembered Richard standing there with us, looking at the crib. I had thought his soft expression was affection for me and my generosity. Now I knew he was looking at the crib for his son. They were shopping for their family on my dime, right in front of my face. They must have laughed about it in bed later.
“Look at how stupid she is,” they probably said. “She’s buying furniture for the baby that will replace her.”
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
