And I knew if I came home and had your cardamom-infused coffee, the kladdkaka cake that you know I love, I would have bawled my eyes out and told you everything. And I’m not telling her shit. Because we’ve set a date for this anniversary getaway vacation. The one week that worked with everyone’s schedule—mostly to fit around Willa’s soccer career and my dad’s ability to get away from his patients—is a nauseating, all-too-soon one week away. I’m not monopolizing my mom’s emotional energy with concern for my marriage this close to her getaway. And I’m certainly not ruining her vacation with it,
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