But when Mark announced that Claire would be attending his birthday dinner, something inside me finally broke.
“Why does your ex-wife need to come?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Because she’s still family. Stop being so insecure.”
On the evening of his birthday, Claire arrived three hours early.
She walked straight into my kitchen, criticized the decorations, and started rearranging the table.
Then, when our guests arrived, she sat in the chair beside Mark.
My chair.
“Claire, that’s where I was going to sit,” I said politely.
She smiled.
“Oh, sweetheart, does it really matter?”
I looked at Mark.
He laughed.
“Just sit somewhere else. Don’t make a scene.”
So I sat at the opposite end of the table.
For the next two hours, Claire behaved like the hostess.
She poured drinks.
She told stories about their marriage.
She laughed about their romantic vacations.
And Mark enjoyed every second.