"Oh, and he convinced his mother to give me the family's heirloom jade bracelet. You know, the one that's supposed to go to the daughter-in-law? I guess you won't be needing it anymore."
I remembered that bracelet.
The Henson family tradition was clear: it only passed to the son's wife after she gave birth.
Kevin had never once fought to get it for me. "We'll have children eventually," he'd said. "It'll come to you naturally."
Given his wandering eye back then, I'd never been eager to get pregnant anyway. We'd planned to start trying after the new year.
Well. That plan was certainly dead now.
I couldn't imagine what he'd said to make Miriam Henson—traditional, immovable Miriam—break her own rules.
The final message was a photo.
Kevin, asleep. His bare neck and chest were covered in lipstick marks.
"Sis, Kevin is incredible. I could barely keep up. He said he hasn't felt this alive in years. Apparently being with you was like facing down a tigress—killed his mood completely. He just went through the motions."
I didn't bother responding.
I blocked her.
The day of my father's wedding to Glenda, Kevin expected me to cause a scene.