Mój mąż kazał mi się schować na górze podczas kolacji promocyjnej, bo nie byłam „w formie” 3 tygodnie po urodzeniu bliźniaków – zgodziłam się, ale nie miał pojęcia, co zostawiłam przy stole

Both babies were awake now.

“Looks like we’re invited.”

I lifted one twin against my chest. By the time I reached the landing, Lucas was already coming upstairs.

“Take your daughter.”

He did.

“Miranda! Oh my God! What the hell is this?!”

Then we went downstairs together.

Conversation died again when I entered.

I was suddenly conscious of everything Lucas had wanted hidden.

My loose dress.

My stomach.

My tired face.

The baby against my chest.

But nobody looked horrified.

Nobody even looked surprised.

I was suddenly conscious of everything Lucas had wanted hidden.

A woman near the head of the table stood.

“Miranda.”

Lucas had pointed her out in photographs before.

His boss.

She smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Lucas said you made dinner.”

“I did.”

Lucas stepped forward.

“Miranda, the binder…”