Then she slammed the door and woke Lily.
Three bassinets stood against the wall.
Bottles were drying in the kitchen.
Milk stains marked the shoulder of my shirt.
She looked at all of it and said, “Do not contact me. I can’t be what this needs.”
Then she slammed the door and woke Lily.
I kept waiting for my anger to burn out so that I could move on with my life.
A couple of weeks later, mutual friends stopped speaking carefully around me and just told the truth. Clarissa had already been seen around town with an older man who owned half the downtown block and tipped like he was buying applause.
That hurt.
But not as much as the quiet after each feeding. Not as much as the hours between midnight and dawn when one baby would finally settle and another would start crying.
I kept waiting for my anger to burn out so that I could move on with my life.
