Wait for It

“I know you do, but I want to make sure you understand this isn’t something light. This is a huge decision. Like if I ever get tired of him, we could get a divorce—”

“Over my dead body,” came the reply from behind me.

“Maybe you can take care of yourself, but have you thought for one single fucking second that maybe somebody else might want to take care of you too?”

I was not going to sabotage any future relationships of his. I wasn’t.

I was not going to sabotage any future relationships of his. I wasn’t.

If the four of us hadn’t gone to visit her, and I hadn’t seen Dallas playing with her youngest baby, my ovaries might have never been lit on fire.

“You are the toughest person I’ve ever met, Diana, but you’re also the most vulnerable, and that drives me fucking crazy,” he said to me.

What did you want me to do? Ask him for money?”

To give us credit, we were both straight-faced as we recited the greatest lie ever told.

“I’ve seen you in your underwear and combed nits out of your hair, baby.

The paramedics had checked me over to make sure I was going to be fine—making me breathe through a mask that had the boys both crying in a way that I never wanted to see again—and bandaging up my hand after I told them there was no way I was going to the hospital.