The Christmas I Was Told I Didn’t Belong

shrank with every word.

I looked around the room slowly.

The silk curtains I paid for when Isabella complained about privacy.
The hardwood floors financed through my second mortgage.
The crown molding that pushed my credit card to its limit.

Every inch of that house carried my fingerprints.

My sacrifice.
My love.

“Their way,” I said carefully. “And what way continue reading …