Chapter 2My Sister

David texted me: [When are you coming home?]

I pressed the button, and the screen went dark.

I looked at my best friend, who was sampling my latest creation. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Sadie took a delicate bite, her eyes widening in amazement. “Honey, I’ve been telling you for years we should open a dessert shop together. I am so, so happy you’ve finally come around.”

She looked at me with a warmth that was both proud and relieved. “I was honestly starting to think you were going to be a housewife for the rest of your life.”

“But,” she added, “my shop is in the next city over. Are you sure you can bear to be away from Leo?”

I didn’t answer her question.

My mind drifted back to the events of the day.

Leo’s fifth birthday.

I had woken up at dawn to prepare. I’d cooked a whole table of his favorite foods. Even the decoration on the cake—his beloved Spider-Man—was something I had painstakingly carved out of chocolate, detail by detail.

But Leo hadn’t even glanced at it.

He was used to my cooking. No matter how creative or delicious, it could never compete with the allure of fried chicken and soda from a fast-food joint.

So he’d just given the table a cursory look and turned to David. “Daddy, it’s my birthday. Can Auntie Rosalie take me to the amusement park? I don’t want Mom’s food. I’m so sick of it!”

And that’s when David had said it—"Go give Mommy a slap..."

…

How could I even begin to explain all this to Sadie?

I had chosen my husband.

My son was my own flesh and blood.

Complaining about it felt pointless and self-pitying.

I just looked at Sadie and sighed softly. “People really do change. I used to think all I ever wanted was a family of my own, that a husband and child were my destiny. When you told me a career was a woman’s real foundation, I didn’t agree. I even tried to convince you to get married.”

“Sadie,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, “thank you for not holding that against me. And for still being willing to give me a chance.”

Sadie looked at me, our decade-long friendship a silent language between us. She understood the words I couldn’t say.

She squeezed my hand. “As long as you’re willing to change, it’s never too late.”