“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Cecelia should carry Mark’s name somehow.”
I stared at her.
“We already chose her name.”
“She should have something from her father.”
“She has a father. She doesn’t need his name attached to hers to prove that.”
Violet looked toward my stomach.
“Mark told me he was reconsidering.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“You weren’t part of every conversation between us.”
“And you weren’t part of every conversation between Mark and me.”
Her expression sharpened.
“He kept things from you too.”
That hurt.
Because it was true.
But truth used as a weapon was still a weapon.
“Mark and I chose Cecelia’s name together.”
“Sally—”
“Go home.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“I said go home.”
Her face changed.
“You’ve questioned whether Mark knew what he was doing. You’ve let other people question whether I manipulated him. And now you’re trying to rewrite what he wanted for our daughter.”
