That evening, several of my husband’s friends came over. They set up the grill on the patio, cooked meat, laughed, and talked while I stayed in the kitchen preparing salads and appetizers for them.
My youngest son was only five months old, so I carried him against my chest in a baby carrier.
When everything was ready, I picked up a tray and headed toward the patio.
A few steps before I reached them, I heard my husband’s voice and stopped.
“I actually want to leave her,” he told his friends.