“So he won’t come,” Isabel says. “Not the end of the world, just like I’ve told Connie.” I glance at her. “It’s not that easy.” “Oh, of course, it’s not easy. But it is simple. He has a choice, if he wants to be a part of his children’s lives,” she says. Then, her voice lowers. “Sorry. I know he’s your father, too. It’s just… I’ve spoken to Connie about this before.” I lift my glass to my lips. “I bet you have. I don’t even want to imagine what you’ve heard about me.” “All terrible things,” she says. Is she teasing? The whiskey is warm down my throat, and I relish the burn. Try to focus on it
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