Chapter 22 - Clara turned two.
We held the party at a local park. Balloons tied to picnic tables. Juice boxes. A chaotic cake shaped like a duck.
Natalie was there, organizing the children with military precision. Denise stopped by before her shift.
And Alex came.
He brought a sensible gift—a set of wooden building blocks. He stood on the edge of the pavilion, watching Clara run through the grass.
Mark was there, too.
He was manning the grill, flipping burgers, chatting easily with my coworkers.
I watched Alex watch Mark.
I saw the exact moment it fully registered for Alex—the life he had thrown away, the family he was now only a guest in. He looked down, his jaw tightening, grief flashing across his face.
But he didn't cause a scene. He didn't approach Mark with posturing or anger.
He walked over to me, handed me a card for Clara, and smiled thinly.
"She looks happy, Lucy," he said. "You threw a great party."
"Thank you for coming, Alex."
"I'll see you Tuesday," he said.
He left early. It was for the best.
Mark walked over a few minutes later, handing me a plate with a hot dog.
May you like
"You okay?" he asked, glancing toward the parking lot where Alex's car had been.
"Yeah," I said, taking a bite. "I am."
