I followed my husband to a hotel because I thought he was having an affair. I was right about the cheating and completely unprepared for who stepped out beside him.
My father had been dead for nine years, but when my life split open, his grave was the only place I could think to go.
I got there first.
The cemetery was almost empty. The sun had gone down, and small solar lights were beginning to glow beside the headstones.
I sat on the stone bench near Dad’s grave with my phone in both hands.
On the screen was a video of my husband walking out of a hotel with his arm around my daughter-in-law.
Mark.
My husband of 31 years.
Jenna.
My son’s wife of three months.
At 8:42, Daniel’s truck pulled into the cemetery.
He got out wearing hospital scrubs and hurried toward me.
“Mom?”
I stood.
