part 2 The man who spent eleven years blaming me for our childlessness threw me out of our home9-008v

a swing. Mateo was on a blanket staring intensely at a stuffed giraffe. Elena rested against Gabriel’s chest while he hummed a melody I later learned had been one of Elena Vasquez’s favorite pieces.

“Yes,” I said.

Silence.

“How many?”

“Three.”

His breath caught.

The silence that followed was not empty. It was full of calculation, disbelief, memory, fear.continue reading …