Mothers who sneak around sleeping with their exes? I rub my temples and sigh. I really wish Dominic would find a different topic for their pillow talk. Last time we met, he didn’t even speak to me. I almost thought he was a puppet. Like in Weekend at Bernie’s. Or maybe just the twins in a trench coat.
“Thank you,” I concede, because there’s really no polite way to send this one back to the messenger. Estranged or not, I’m not going to step down into the mud and start accusing my mother of things I have no proof of. Whatever she does with her life is her business, not mine. Same goes for the man who calls himself my father.
Maybe they just work better without you in the way.
I slap that thought away—No. I promised Dr. Knox I wouldn’t do this, let myself fall down a negative spiral every
