“Yes. He’s with us on this.”
A humorless laugh escaped me.
“My husband compared a 35-year-old woman to you at his own birthday party!”
Alice said nothing.
I wiped my face, stood up, and faced the mirror.
“Can I borrow your phone for one more minute?”
“Sure,” Alice answered.
I walked back downstairs.
The guests still lingered around the pool, pretending nothing had happened.
I picked up the microphone.
After tapping it twice, the conversations faded away.
“Everyone, I’d like to make a toast and wish my husband a happy birthday. So listen carefully.”
Glasses lifted.
NEXT PAGE
