“Your mother is gone. Tears won’t bring her back—so wipe your face, make dinner, and don’t look like a grieving child when my guests arrive.” That was what my husband said.

He couldn’t accept being the only one to blame. The illicit relationship they had flaunted, the one they called true love behind my back, crumbled in an instant when their personal interests were threatened. Mark struck back at Jessica. He shouted that she was the one who was always asking for things. Mark revealed that Jessica had threatened to break up with him if he didn’t buy her a new piece of jewelry. They insulted each other publicly, airing each other’s dirty laundry, blaming each other. The scene was both pathetic and cathartic. The two people who had united to hurt me were now tearing each other apart like stray dogs fighting over a bone.