When my husband left me during

And yes, I was invited. “You’re still family,” they said.

Sloane had the nerve to text me that herself.

“I really hope you’ll come,” she wrote. “We want peace.”

I almost threw my phone across the room.

Instead, I replied, “I’ll think about it.”

I thought about it thoroughly and decided to go, but I went alone.

The twins stayed home with a babysitter.

I chose a navy dress that fit my body as it was, not how it used to be. I curled my hair.

I walked into that ballroom with my shoulders back.

Sloane’s closest relatives circled me all evening, but I refused to leave because I didn’t want anyone to see how much the ground beneath me had cracked.

Our family members were praising the bride’s glow, her luck, and her “upgrade.”

“She looks radiant,” one cousin said, smiling at me as if I should agree.

“Thatcher’s such a catch,” one aunt whispered. “He’ll make her so happy.”