I wanted to hate her. It would’ve been easier. But she’d looked ten years older than me and twenty pounds lighter than the last Thanksgiving I’d seen her.
Dana had been with me three weeks.
Ethan hated it.
Not loudly. He wasn’t loud. He was worse than loud.
He’d say things at dinner like, “How long is this arrangement?” Or, “Teenagers today are very manipulative.continue reading …
