Maybe this is unhinged, but approximately one week after getting back from Mexico, I began starting each day with a pregnancy test. I was paranoid about getting pregnant. I’m sorry if this sounds bad or triggers anyone, but I knew if I did get pregnant I wouldn’t keep it. Brendan had made it clear that he didn’t want a baby, and I really didn’t want one either (but could probably make it work if it happened). I’ve seen first hand what an unwanted pregnancy/baby can do to a relationship and I certainly didn’t want that to happen again.

None of the tests came back positive, thank God. I’m sorry, but the last thing I needed was an unwanted pregnancy on my hands. And despite the fact that he was apparently not ready for a child of his own, Brendan was really leaning into his stepdad role. I’ll admit that in the beginning, he was just like a fun uncle or something and it was a free for all when he was around. It was like: Brendan’s here so we can all stay up late and order pizza and scream at the top of our lungs! But now that it’s been a few years and they’ve gotten more comfortable with each other, he actually calls out Winnie on her misbehavior. You know, in his Brendan kinda way — the same way he speaks to his stupid employees. Winnie tries to push her limits and he says things like, “I thought we already decided you aren’t supposed to do that.” And she’s like, “Oh yeah, I forgot.” Or sometimes he will actually put his foot down about something (she’s usually bullying him about the TV or her dolls) and she talks back so Brendan says, “Okay, well I’m not going to argue with you.” And then she knows he’s actually serious and so she stops. I don’t know — I just love seeing their relationship evolve and the fact that they are still so close. He’s going to be such a good dad…someday!

When Winnie went back to school in January, she was going Monday through Friday instead of just Tuesday through Thursday, like she did in the fall. It was absolutely necessary because 1. She loves school and 2. She needs to get used to a full schedule since she starts kindergarten later this year (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, I’M LITERALLY FREAKING OUT).

When I told Brady about the schedule change, he didn’t argue or even seem to care even though he’d be losing an entire day with her. He was mostly annoyed at my suggestion that he could drop her off at school on Monday mornings because that wouldn’t work with his perfect established schedule. I’m like, “Okay, I’ll pick her up from your house on Sunday night so she can be at school on Monday morning. I don’t care.” God. He loves to make things hard. Eventually Brady agreed to my suggestion of dropping Winnie off at school on Monday mornings (because what else was he going to do?). Then she would spend the week in the city with me and he will pick her up from school on Friday afternoons so she can spend the weekend with him.

One day I was balls deep in the online portal for Winnie’s school, being nosy. You know me. I usually spend most of my time in the address book section where it has everyone’s parents’ contact information where home addresses are listed (which I then copy and paste into Zillow to see how much everyone’s homes are worth). My favorite part is that they list the parents who are still together on the same line on the spreadsheet and the parents who aren’t together on two separate lines. That’s how I found out about one couple’s divorce last year. I immediately texted Victoria (Olivia’s mom) to discuss because I’ve become that mom.

So anyway I was scrolling through the list to see if anything had changed and I saw that there was a new entry next to Brady’s contact information. They’d added Caroline (“fiancée”) with all of her details. For context, almost all of the communication with Winnie’s school goes through me so they’d clearly gone out of their way to get Caroline added to the contact list. And for what reason? She’s a weekend stepmom (barely) and has nothing to do with Winnie’s school.

Before I could stop myself, I took a screenshot and sent it directly to Brady. He sent back a question mark a few minutes later.

“Why was it necessary to add Caroline?” I asked.

“I don’t see why it matters to you, but I was told to add her just in case. It is unrealistic for me to pick Winnie up every Friday so sometimes Cara might have to instead,” Brady explained.

Excuse me?

“If you can’t pick her up on a Friday, just let me know. I can pick her up. Fridays usually aren’t busy for me,” I said.

“It’s fine. Cara is okay getting her and I don’t anticipate it happening often,” he texted back.

I started to type back, “Does Winnie even like Cara?” because does she? I’m not convinced. But that seemed petty and mean so I sent back a thumbs up and we ended the conversation there. I didn’t want him to think I was more bothered than I was. I didn’t care really, it just seemed like he was trying to force the Caroline thing on us. I get that they are engaged and will eventually be getting married allegedly, but it’s not my fault that he didn’t ease into the relationship and just jumped head first into an engagement / cohabitation situation and it was going to take me (and Winnie) some time to get used to it.

And maybe I shouldn’t even be judging because Winnie and I had a trip planned with Brendan and his entire family + extended family to Jamaica the second week in February. I couldn’t exactly be mad about the potential of Brady’s silly little fiancée occasionally picking Winnie up from school when she was cozying up with Brendan and his family, right?

Anyway, the trip was to celebrate Valentine’s Day / Brendan’s birthday (even though he was taking another trip with his boys for his actual birthday — sus) and in addition to Brendan, Winnie and me, Margot and Brendan’s dad were going, and Danielle was coming and bringing a friend, Brendan’s uncle was coming with a couple friends, Brendan’s cousin Daphne and her husband/kids were coming, and one of Margot’s close friends and her family was coming. So a rather large group. Brendan asked me if I wanted to invite my parents.

I was like, “Absolutely not.”

Brendan shrugged and said, “Just a suggestion.”

I appreciated it, but there was no reason my parents should be on vacation with all of us. First of all, I didn’t know where my mom was with her alcohol issues and I was not about to babysit her all week to make sure she didn’t embarrass the family.

A few days later, Brendan asked if I was sure that I didn’t want to invite them.

“I’m sure,” I said.

He explained that they’d rented an entire villa at the resort that had like twelve bedrooms or something so there was plenty of room if I wanted to invite them.

“Okay thank you, but they are not coming,” I said politely. There was no way I was inviting my parents to Jamaica  — you couldn’t pay me to do so — and I was not sure why Brendan was pushing it.

But then a few days after that I was talking to Margot and she said, “Brendan said your parents aren’t coming to Jamaica?!”

“That’s correct, they aren’t,” I confirmed.

“Why not?” she exclaimed. “You invited them, didn’t you? I was so looking forward to it.”

And I really didn’t have a good reason that I could explain (“I’m afraid my mom is going to be herself and I’m not proud of who she is,” sounded terrible) so I didn’t say anything.

“Maybe they’ll reconsider?” Margot went on. “I can call Jackie myself if you want. I think we all expected them to be there.”

Everyone seemed really persistent about this and I kind of wondered if there was a reason they all wanted to make sure my child and family were on the vacation with us. Maybe Brendan was going to propose to me? It seemed very unlikely, but we would be there over Valentine’s Day so who could say?

I got home and invited my mom to come to Jamaica with us and she immediately said yes like she’d been waiting with bated breath for the invite. She said she’d need to make sure my dad could get off work, but even if he couldn’t she was still going to come by herself. I’m like, the invitation is for both of you as a package deal, but okay lady. She texted me right after we got off the phone saying my dad could take the time off and they were both excited to come.

So it was all happening. We were all leaving that Sunday and would meet up at the resort sometime in the evening. I packed a few matching outfits for Winnie and me (what? She’s my mini me and is just like me in every way so why shouldn’t we match sometimes?), bikinis, hats for various occasions, SPH 50 for my baby, a Selkie dress for Valentine’s dinner with my man, AGOLDE criss cross shorts in 3 colors and my new favorite strappy heels by Alohas. One of the first (and my personal favorite) vacation pictures I took was of Brendan and Winnie wearing their respective backpacks, walking through the airport hand in hand. My freaking babies!!!! I love them so much.

Both sets of parents were already at the resort when we arrived Sunday evening. My parents were apparently in one of the bars drinking already, but Brendan’s parents were waiting for us in the villa because they are normal. Danielle wasn’t arriving until the following morning.

And can I just say that I realized why she is so unpleasant to be around? She’s so negative and hates everything and totally thinks she’s “not like other girls.” It was the most time I’ve spent with her and she’s just so…ugh. She hated all of the food options and was constantly asking for a side salad or plain pasta noodles with olive oil. Like, grow up. And she declined any and every activity we all did — even just simple trips to the beach (except one boat trip which I’ll tell y’all about in a sec). I’m like, are you okay? What was the point of coming on vacation if you aren’t going to enjoy it? And she was always in such a dour mood and I lost count of how many times I caught her rolling her eyes at things that didn’t warrant an eye roll. One time a few of us were sitting around the living room and she’d texted Margot (who was in another room) asking her to bring a charger so she could charge her phone. Margot asked some follow up questions to make sure she was bringing the correct one and Danielle was getting annoyed. Eventually Margot came and brought the requested charger. Danielle snatched it from her and mumbled, “How fucking hard was that?” I turned to Brendan to make sure he was seeing what a snotty little bitch his sister is and of course he wasn’t paying attention so he missed it. She’s such a nightmare.

Anyway, other than Danielle, the trip was really good. I gave up worrying about my parents after the first day because there were so many people that no one was paying attention to my mom’s alcohol consumption nor did they care. Especially considering Brendan’s dad and uncle always drink a ton and were shithoused 85% of the trip. Someone had the genius idea to hire 2 local Jamaican nannies to watch all the kids so we could actually relax and have fun. I will not be vacationing without a nanny going forward.

We spent most days at the pool or beach, playing tennis or golf (well, they did, I watched), drinking rum punch and apple flavored Crown Royal, eating local cuisine, getting massages, etc. The resort unfortunately boasted fitness and wellness and Margot had arranged private training with a personal trainer for all of us every morning. The idea was cute, but I only made it to one class.

Maybe I should’ve prioritized working out a little bit more though because on one of the days we all went out on a little excursion on a catamaran. Some of them jumped in the water and snorkeled and stuff, but I was just enjoying the vibes with Winnie and my mom and we sunbathed on the deck. Danielle obviously didn’t get in the water either and my mom attempted to make conversation with her by asking questions about her life and her job and stuff. She was standoffish and was short with all of her answers (my mom is nosy, to be fair) before she eventually got up and stomped to the other side of the boat.

“She’s always like that,” I explained.

“Well, hopefully she has a better day,” my mom said.

So anyway, on our way back to land we were all hanging out on the deck talking and drinking. I was in a two piece by Monday Swimwear and Winnie was in a one piece in similar colors with a lifevest.

Winnie, in front of everyone on the boat, poked my stomach and said, “Is that a baby in there?”

“Oh my god, no!” I screamed and everyone died laughing.

Obviously I’m not perfect, but I’m in probably the best shape I’ve ever been in and it’s not like my stomach was…I don’t know, protruding out or anything. So I don’t know why Winnie would even think to ask me that. And I’m sure I’ve spoken to Winnie about how she was in my tummy at one point, but not any time recently. So where would she have even gotten that idea?

Clearly I wasn’t pregnant (I’d been checking incessantly before the trip and was drinking like a fish), but my mom still wanted to know if Winnie was onto something. She had the nerve to seem disappointed when I assured her that I wasn’t and didn’t want to be. Then we discussed the possibility of Caroline being pregnant. Maybe Caroline was pregnant and told Winnie that she had a baby in her tummy and so now Winnie was walking wondering who else had babies in their tummies. That’s made sense to me. And the thought of Caroline being pregnant was depressing.

As you can see, I was totally normal about Brady and Caroline’s engagement. I was fine if I didn’t sit and think about it for too long. I mostly felt betrayed on behalf of my daughter — who didn’t seem bothered or to care in the slightest after coming home from spending New Years with her dad. So maybe I was offended for no reason because Winnie did not even mention that she knew about it.

I think I’ve briefly mentioned a couple times that Winnie has taken up dance and has been in classes since last summer. Mainly just to socialize and for something to do in the same way my mother put me in gymnastics as a small child. I was actually kicked out of gymnastics, but that’s a story for another day!

So anyway, apparently Caroline is a trained dancer and took classes up until she went to college (a fact she’s told me no less than six times). She always wants to discuss Winnie’s progress and to know if Winnie has learned these certain moves or reached these certain milestones. I’m like, “You know, I think she finally learned that she’s supposed to start dancing once they say ‘5, 6, 7, 8.’” It’s like, she’s a little baby! Everyone else takes it so seriously though including the other dance moms. They all think they’ve spawned the next Maddie Ziegler while I watch their child pick their nose and eat their boogers for the entire class. It’s just so funny to me.

Winnie’s dance school was also out for the holidays, but over the break they held a little mini camp/workshop during the day which I obviously signed Winnie up for because some of us still had to work. To celebrate the end of day camp, the children had put together a little showcase with brunch (aka an excuse to charge more $$ for tickets and a costume) and I told Brady about it in passing since we’d need to modify our schedule to accommodate. He didn’t ask any follow up questions at all, but then Caroline messaged me asking for further details, really leaning into her new stepmom role. Then she was like, “You don’t mind if we come to brunch, do you? I’m excited to see what Winnie has been up to!”

It’s like, why would I give a fuck if you come or not? And you always come without asking so why ask now? Stop being annoying. Was I still feeling bitchy about the entire proposal/engagement? Probably. And it didn’t help that Brendan was traveling and wasn’t going to be able to come with me and you know he’s always with me at these things.

Sunday rolled around and I was back to being unbothered about Brady and Caroline. Like truly, I did not care even though I never got any kind of acknowledgement for the bottle of Clicquot I sent. I was fine!

At first I didn’t notice, but Caroline was acting kind of weird to me. Like, standoffish. For example, usually she always rushes over to say hi when we see each other and gives me some sort of compliment, but we made eye contact when they walked into the event and she didn’t come over to say hi. But I also hadn’t seen her in a little bit (Brady was meeting me outside the house during drop off, remember?) so maybe something had changed. Still I thought nothing of it and marched right over to say hi myself. The last thing I want is to seem petty when I am definitely not.

“Hey!” I said.

“Hey Reese,” Brady said like he was already sick of my shit. I hadn’t even done anything!

Caroline was standing next to him, but kind of behind him and was carrying a tiny bouquet of flowers. I hadn’t thought of getting Winnie flowers, but considering how much she loves them, it was a cute idea that I wish I had thought of.

Brady and I politely chatted for a bit while Caroline said nothing. She’s usually yapping my ear off so again, this was weird. Eventually I leaned over so I could actually see her and said, “Congrats, by the way.”

Caroline looked at me, surprised, and I pointed to my ring finger.

“Oh, thanks,” she said back like she wasn’t expecting me to speak to her. “Thank you for saying that.”

Whatever.

We went into the little viewing room where we could watch the kiddies and Brady plopped into a seat right next to me and Caroline sat hesitantly on the other side of him.

“So…” he leaned over to me, smirking. “Where’s Brendan?”

I don’t know why, but this offended me. Since when does he care about Brendan?

“He’s out of town. Why?” I said back.

Brady shrugged. “He’s always with you.”

“Do you have an issue with that?” I snapped.

“I really don’t care. I just didn’t know if you were still together.”

Uh, excuse me? Hello??? Why wouldn’t we still be together? Did he know something I didn’t?

“We’re definitely still together. No need to worry,” I said.

He continued smirking and said, “I’m not,” in a way that felt sarcastic.

Caroline glanced over at us and he stopped talking to me. She probably thought it was odd that we were having a conversation because Brady hardly ever speaks to me anymore.

A little while later, the children came out and we all went to the decorated tables where brunch was being served. Winnie sat in a chair between Brady and me and climbed back and forth between our laps to gossip about her dance friends. Caroline was definitely being weird, but I felt bad because she was clearly trying to be included and Winnie wasn’t giving her a chance. She wasn’t even interested in the flowers (to be fair, it was an entire bouquet of baby’s breath or something and it was kind of hideous). I even stepped in to try to facilitate interaction between them. I’m like, “Winnie, did you say thank you for the beautiful flowers?” and “Caroline is speaking to you, did you hear her?”

Perhaps he thought I was laying it on thick or something because Brady made eye contact with me and mouthed, “Stop.”

Huh? I mouthed back, “Stop what?” I literally wasn’t doing anything except trying to get Winnie to acknowledge Caroline’s existence. But he didn’t seem to care if they interacted or liked each other at all.

Brady glanced at Caroline and she glanced back and then he ignored me, not answering my question. I’m like, what the fuck is going on? What am I missing? They were both being so weird and I was completely over it.

The next weekend, Brendan and I went on a trip to Mexico, just south of Cancún. It was much needed if you ask me — a getaway for just the two of us with no child to worry about or wedding to attend. I was excited for some uninterrupted relaxation time with my man, my man, my man! And although I said just the two of us, there was another couple there. Do you remember Alexander, Brendan’s high school friend who I met on New Year’s Eve? He and I had what I thought was a short, meaningless conversation that night, but Brendan and Kendall kept teasing me about him and insinuating that I had a crush on him or something. We were all at a lounge one night and Alexander showed up — Kendall was like, “Reese, your bestie is here! Alexander, come over here, come say hi to Reese!” It was all very confusing, we had literally one conversation and it was mainly about his wife. I mean, I thought he was hot but I never told anyone that. (Did I?)

So anyway, Alexander and his wife were also in Mexico and staying at the same resort as us, but aside from a dinner reservation, we didn’t have plans to hang out with them.

I packed bikinis, flowy dresses, a cutout top by Cult Gaia, chunky gold earrings, my entire sunglass collection, etc, really prepared for a sunkissed weekend. But then it proceeded to rain nonstop for all four days we were there. I think I might’ve seen the sun once. But our room had a nice, covered outdoor space with a little pool that faced the ocean so we spent a lot of time out there drinking room service wine and talking. And when we weren’t sitting outside, we were in bed talking and having a lot of sex. I love Brendan literally so much, like he’s my best friend and my favorite person in the world (besides maybe my daughter, usually). But do you know what he told me?

He told me that he got a large settlement from his ex-wife after their divorce. I’m like: interesting, you told me how you argued back and forth about an engagement ring and a Rolex watch, but you never once mentioned a settlement. Apparently since she got to keep the townhouse they got together and “has more money” than him, she (her family) cut him a fat check to settle the divorce quickly.

“Fascinating. And then you spent it?” I said.

“Not all of it,” Brendan said. “But definitely some. I invested the rest.”

“What did you spend it on?” I had to know, mainly because it would tell me how much this “settlement” check was.

“Well, my place obviously,” he said. “She took the house so I had to have somewhere else to live.”

Remember Brendan bought a huge three bedroom apartment a few years ago and I was perplexed how he could afford it? Well, that’s how — his ex-wife’s family bankrolled it. Gross. It shouldn’t matter to me and I guess I can’t hold it against him, but I hated that.

I didn’t stay off Instagram for that long. Obviously. Every time I reached for my phone I was reminded that Brady and Caroline were engaged so I stopped myself. If I wasn’t on Instagram then I didn’t have to see it and if I didn’t see then I didn’t have to think about it. And I did not want to think about it. For some reason the thought of Brady and Caroline made me feel anxious and uneasy and I wondered how quickly I could find a therapist. I didn’t like feeling that way about two people I didn’t think I cared about.

Less than an hour later though, I picked up my phone and started scrolling through Instagram again, trying to stumble upon Caroline’s post. I could easily just search for her page to see it, but I wanted to find it organically again because that would make me feel better.

Eventually the “Forever with you, are you kidding me?” post popped up — the first picture again. It was a far away picture of the actual proposal — two bundled up ants (Brady and Caroline) on some sand with cliffs and a bridge in the background. San Francisco maybe? So he’d bought an engagement ring, taken her on this trip and planned this big proposal, but hadn’t said a word to anyone? Don’t get me wrong — I know he doesn’t tell me anything, but if he planned on marrying Caroline, she would become Winnie’s stepmom and that’s a big deal.

I studied the photo and felt relieved that I didn’t feel envious (the proposal was not my style at all and the whole vibe felt gray and damp). I could not believe that Brady actually proposed to her though. I was wondering what about her made him think: “This is it. I want to marry her.” Maybe she’d met his mom and his mom approved — which I couldn’t imagine. Brady’s mom hates everyone including her own children. The entire thing reeked of haste and desperation.

As I inspected the picture closer, I saw that Caroline was holding her dog on a leash and it bothered me because the stupid dog was included in the proposal, but Brady’s own child wasn’t? Winnie was clearly not even aware of the proposal (as she would’ve told me), and he couldn’t even so much as call or FaceTime her to share his news?

The next photo was the closeup on the boat where you could actually see the ring. It appeared to be a solitaire elongated cushion or radiant diamond with a gold band and probably about two carats total — a good size for her small hand. I liked it, I guess. And in the picture, Brady is actually smiling with teeth showing — he’s usually giving an unenthusiastic half-smile in all of his other pictures. So maybe he was truly happy.

I felt weird and sad, but not because I was jealous or anything. I felt sad for Winnie because this was a lot of change for her in a short amount of time. And I know that she tolerates Caroline, but she doesn’t love her — couldn’t Brady have waited until they had a better relationship before making such a permanent decision? Is that unreasonable?

I made sure not to like the photo so I could feign ignorance when/if Brady ever decided to tell me. But I took a screenshot to send to everyone I knew including, but limited to: my mother, Kendra, Carly, Lola, Erika and Kristina.

Thursday morning, Winnie and I hopped in the car to go to Connecticut and Brady met us outside his (Caroline’s) house when we got there. That was his new thing — as if he didn’t want me to step foot into their home. He picked Winnie up and hugged her and asked her to tell him what she got for Christmas. I was waiting for him to tell her that he’d gotten her a new stepmom, but he didn’t.

Eventually Winnie demanded to be let down and then she headed inside. Brady waited until she was out of earshot to turn back to me. Before I could even ask him how Christmas and his birthday were, he said, “I wanted to let you know that Cara and I got engaged over the weekend.”

Brady looked everywhere, but at me and I stared at him silently, waiting for him to make eye contact. He looked at the ground and behind me and back at the house and my car.

Eventually, I was like, “I know, I saw on Instagram. Congratulations.”

“Oh. I did not know it was on Instagram,” he said.

Huh, so maybe he and his new fiancée also had communications issues and the issue had nothing to do with me.

“Are you happy? I didn’t even know you planned on proposing,” I said.

Brady said, “Well, I’m not getting any younger…”

“Oh, so it’s an age thing and not a me thing? Because I could’ve sworn you’ve told me in the past that you don’t want to ever get married, but maybe you just didn’t want to get married to me.” I couldn’t help myself. No one had been more anti-marriage than Brady and now he was engaged to this random girl barely a year after knowing her and I had to call him out on it.

“Well, I asked you, Reese,” Brady said in an accusatory way, finally looking at me. “Before I even got serious with Cara, I asked you if you wanted to work on us and our relationship and you said: ‘that ship has sailed.’”

Hello?! If I wasn’t so fucking shook, I would’ve been dying laughing about him using my exact words against me like that.

“It was too late at that point and you know it! We were both with other people!” I screamed at him.

I actually for once started to feel bad for Caroline. She seemed so happy and optimistic about the engagement and Brady basically just admitted that he settled because he’s getting old. Maybe that’s not what he meant, but that’s how I took it.

I ended the conversation by saying, “Anyway, I hope you’re happy and y’all have a good life together.”

“Thanks,” Brady said sarcastically before turning to go back inside.

Later on, I was thinking about it and I felt bad about how the conversation went. It’s supposed to be one of the happiest times in his life, you know, and I didn’t try to go there and pick a fight with him. He probably thought I was a jealous bitter bitch and I totally was not. I think it’s pretty obvious at this point that Brady and I were never compatible and it’s not that he didn’t want to get married — he just didn’t want to marry me. It’s tough, but I can admit it. And jokes on him because now he’s stuck with me for life!

So I ordered a bottle of champs to be delivered to their home and signed it from Brendan and me, even though I hadn’t even told Brendan the news yet.

It definitely wasn’t a competition, but after Friendsgiving and Reagan’s shady Instagram post, I felt like I needed a bit of a revamp. I made an appointment with my hard-to-reach hairstylist for a cut and color, I visited my neighborhood esthetician for some fine tuning, and actually went into my Pilates class instead of accepting the late cancellation fee and going on with my day. Nothing major, but I wanted to make sure there wasn’t even a chance of Reagan being prettier than me.

After Thanksgiving it was basically a sprint until the next break — Christmas. My parents would be visiting. I wasn’t looking forward to it and I tried to talk them out of it, but then I felt bad because I spoke to my dad and he was really excited about it.

In the meantime I’d more or less settled into my new position and even found a new daytime hobby: bothering Brendan while he worked!

I had intense baby fever for approximately four weeks and I was obsessed with having a little bubbarooni of my own. I wanted a sweet little boy, who I’d enroll in therapy the moment he hatched, and had the names narrowed down to Sebastian (Seb for short) and Theodore (Teddy). Most of the time I can’t imagine myself having more kids as Winnie is a handful by herself. And then I’ll randomly see a cute baby on Instagram or at the store and think, “K, can I order one of these for one hour delivery on Prime? I need one now!”

I called Brendan at two o’clock one afternoon.

“I want a baby,” I said.

“I don’t,” he said back with a laugh, not missing a beat.

“Ugh, you don’t?” Why did I expect him to just automatically agree with me?

“Not right now. That’s like, a lot of work,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s not that much work.” Don’t tell me Brendan thought having a baby was too much work even though he wouldn’t have to carry or birth the thing.

“Hang on a sec,” he said and then I listened while he had an entire conversation with someone and the cacophony of sanding, beeping and banging went on in the background. Eventually Brendan came back to the line and said, “K, I’m back.”

“So you don’t want a baby?” I confirmed, devastated.

“No, I don’t want a baby right now,” he said.

“Ugh but I do!” It was just really upsetting to me that Brendan doesn’t want a baby with me, but was actually trying with his ex-wife who he barely liked, who was cheating on him and who is basically a real life Disney movie villain.

Brendan said, “Do you have something you want to tell me, Reese?”

“I’m not pregnant, oh my god!” I exclaimed. I have been diligent about my birth control and being responsible after having an accidental baby in the form of my little princess, Winnie. But while we’re on the topic, if he supposedly doesn’t want a baby now (even though he always talks about how excited he is to have kids), then why was it my sole responsibility to make sure we didn’t have one?

“Okay, good,” Brendan sighed.

And then after that, my baby fever was miraculously gone.

Another time, Brendan mentioned that he wanted to reorganize/restructure his office before Miguel got back and I was like, “K, I’ll help. I’m on my way.” I never visit Brendan’s office mainly because it’s in an area of the city I do not frequent and is not near anything else. Plus it’s a little…industrial for my taste. It’s not even an office really — it’s more like a dodgy warehouse with standing desks in it. The only person who even has a private office is Miguel, and when I got there I saw that Gigi had moved her desk into a corner of his private office. In the words of Sutton Stracke: it was sus.

Gigi and Izzy were running around like bumbling idiots when I arrived and then swarmed me to talk about my outfit, shoes, hair and lips (why yes, I did get one syringe injected in my lips during my fine tuning — a holiday treat).

“I love your boots, are they Gucci? Who makes your coat? What size are you, can I try it on?”

“Did you color your hair? Who is your stylist? What do you ask for? How much was it? Do you use purple shampoo?”

I appreciated all of the attention. Brendan was taking a phone call at his standing desk, but eventually came over to join us.

“K, I’m gonna order it,” Izzy said, prancing around in my jacket. “But can I borrow your credit card? I left my wallet at home.”

“Yeah, just use my p-card. It’s on my desk,” Gigi said.

Brendan was like, “…that’s not what that’s for.”

Gigi and Izzy stared at him like he’d grown another nose.

“Oh, it’s not?” Gigi said, clueless.

“Uh, no,” he said.

Hilarious! So you mean these dummies were using Gigi’s business credit card for personal shopping? Honestly, it’s kind of amazing. I would’ve never even thought to do that (probably because I have more than three brain cells), but if they were getting away with it then why not I suppose?

My parents arrived on the evening of Winnie’s birthday and decided to come straight to the apartment for a sleepover. They built a tragic little campground/fort in the living room which Winnie obviously loved because she’s always into a bit of chaos and confusion. She’d spent the day terrorizing her classmates on the last day of school before a very long break and after school, we went out for dessert with her various friends, Olivia, Nyla and Beatrice. Brendan even stopped by super briefly to bring a gift and say hi to my parents. We had dinner plans the next night so it really wasn’t necessary, but he’s nice so he came anyway. It was just going to be the five of us at dinner, but Brendan mentioned/suggested the possibility of his parents joining us.

He hadn’t previously discussed this with me and I was not prepared for my mom meeting Brendan’s parents. I was like, “Uh, no.” My mother hadn’t exactly welcomed Brendan with open arms and in my opinion, she didn’t deserve to meet his parents and get the opportunity to interrogate them too.

“Oh, we’d love that!” my mom shrieked. “We would love to meet your parents!”

“I do not want that to happen,” I said out loud.

“You don’t?” Brendan said and the look on his face told me he was taking it personally. You know how he is.

“Not really, no,” I said.

They all stared at me waiting for me to elaborate and I didn’t want to be a total bitch so I was like, “Just kidding!”

My mom knew I wasn’t kidding and later asked me why I didn’t want them all to meet. She insinuated that there was something wrong with Brendan’s family that I was ashamed/embarrassed of and that was the reason I didn’t want them to meet. I’m like, wow lady, you really have zero self awareness. I even gave her my usual stern list of prohibited conversation topics and she still didn’t think that maybe my issue was with her.

Or maybe she did because dinner went surprisingly really well. Do you remember when I first met Brendan’s dad and stepmom and got kind of nervous that I was meeting them and worried that they’d judge me or it would be all weird and awkward? They’re just not like that, I guess, at least not outwardly. My mom was on her best behavior for the most part and mostly just dredged up old stories about me that no one wanted to hear. And I guess I get it — I’m her only kid and she doesn’t work so wtf else was she supposed to talk about? 

My parents started bickering after we ate dinner (as they always, always do) and everyone else just continued on like it wasn’t weird while I was dying inside. I appreciated Brendan’s parents giving them space to fight and minding their business (you just know if it was Brady’s mom, she would’ve watched them in horror and judgement). We all had espressos, martinis or gelatos in front of us and finally I turned to them and said, “Oh my god, can y’all stop?!”

My dad said, “Yes, I’m sorry,” and of course my mom said, “Stop what, hun?”

We said goodbye to Brendan’s parents and then the rest of us went back to my apartment. And by then, my mom was suddenly interested in talking to Brendan. I was relieved that she was actually warming up to him, but annoyed that it had taken this long when she should’ve been interested in getting to know him in the first place. She was like, “Wow, Margot seems great — how long has she been in your life? Have you always been close? And what about your mom?” Things she could’ve asked when they first met over the summer instead of being a judgy bitch. I don’t know, it just annoyed me.

Do you know who we didn’t hear from over Christmas? Brady. He FaceTimed Winnie on her birthday, but didn’t call on Christmas or even Christmas Eve. Honestly, I didn’t even notice and Winnie didn’t either — usually if she wants to speak to her father, she will FaceTime him, but she didn’t bother. I thought literally nothing of it.

He texted me on Tuesday morning to coordinate drop off later in the week. And then I hopped on Instagram and started scrolling aimlessly like I always do. Is it just me or is Instagram not as fun anymore? I always scroll and scroll until I get the “You’re All Caught Up” message, then I close the app for five minutes until I get bored again and open it up and start scrolling again. It’s an illness at this point.

Do you know how when you’ve seen every post for the past few days, Instagram starts showing you posts you haven’t interacted with again, but shows you the second image in the carousel? Apparently Caroline had posted something that I scrolled right past because the post popped up again. And the second image was a picture of her with Brady and they’re bundled up on a boat. And in the picture, he’s standing behind her and she has her hand held up showing off what looks like a diamond engagement ring. The caption was like, “Forever with you, are you kidding me?!” The first picture in the group was so insignificant that I’d missed it during my mindless scroll, but there it was: Brady and Caroline seemingly engaged.

I quickly closed out of the app and threw my phone down and didn’t open Instagram again.

I should explain myself. It might be because I’m on the pill, but my sex drive is all over the place. Usually I feel fine, but some days I’m like, “Ew don’t touch me, don’t even look in my direction, I’m not in the least bit interested in you or your body.” And other days, I just want to fuck. I don’t even care who with. Mike? Take off all your clothes and lay down. Or I’ll pass a random man on the street who smells nice and then I’ll become ravenous. It really just depends on the day. So…that might explain the ending of my last post.

After their wedding, Miguel and Jasmine went on a month-long Eurotrip for their honeymoon so Brendan decided to go back to work full time to run his company. Gigi was supposed to cover while Miguel was out, but…you know Gigi. It was time for Brendan to go back to work anyway, if you ask me. The timing was actually perfect though because it was right when I got my silly little promotion so we both had full, busy schedules. Even though I’m doing the same thing I’ve been doing, with my name officially attached to it, I wanted to make sure I was giving 100% effort and doing everything correctly.

We went back to our old school, 2+ hour “working” lunches, like we’d always do when we had no business spending that much time together. But we actually really did have stuff to work on together and sites we both needed our eyes on. And honestly the extra time was necessary because just as I predicted, our schedules fell out of sync. Brendan was traveling a lot for work and for fun and I was working later and being a dance mom and I also lost my batshit crazy babysitter because she found a sugar daddy. So I was going to take any extra time with him I could get.

I was so fucking ready for Thanksgiving break. Everything had felt kind of chaotic after the wedding because I couldn’t get into a routine. To my utter shock, Brady had already discussed holiday plans with me and suggested that he spend Thanksgiving with Winnie so that way I could spend her birthday and Christmas with her. Opposite of last year. I was like, wow that seems more than fair, what’s the catch? You know Brady likes to make things difficult simply because he can. And Thanksgiving means nothing to me so I was just fine with this arrangement.

Winnie was out of school beginning on Wednesday so I would be dropping her off with Brady bright and early that morning. They were going to visit “family” he’d told me — whatever that means! He doesn’t have any family! It blows my mind how much of a stranger Brady has become. I know it’s because of cheater-gate and my role in it, but we just never really recovered after that. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a very long time since we’ve been anything beyond co-parenting acquaintances, but at this point I was talking to Caroline more than I was talking to him. Mainly because she’d been messaging about Winnie’s room ever since I complained about it the day I saw it. At least someone cared since her father clearly didn’t! Since I had finally had a little bit of time, I dropped Winnie off on Wednesday morning with a borrowed drill in tow so I could finally make some progress. The Tiffany blue was going to have to stay since I didn’t have the time or energy to have it painted, but I was at least going to hang her canopy, shelves and artwork up. Caroline came and attempted to help (aka she just sat there talking my ear off while I did everything), and Brady hung out with Winnie and ignored everything I was doing.

That evening, Brendan’s parents were having a big Friendsgiving party at their house. I thought: perfect, I can go to Friendsgiving and drink and socialize and then spend Thanksgiving alone catching up on my shows and fasting since I knew Brendan would want to spend the actual holiday with his family. And as much as I love him, I was looking forward to some much needed me-time.

Brendan’s parents have a lot of parties and at first this one seemed to be the same as they always are. Themed and decorated accordingly, catered with enough food to feed at least ¾ of Manhattan, magnum bottles of the best wine in the world (I didn’t even understand the concept of a wine snob until I started spending time with Brendan and his family and now I think I am one too) and all the usual suspects as guests.

I really like Margot’s friend/neighbor, Erika. She’s a few years older than me, but is married to this very rich, much older businessman. She has a really eclectic, but chic style and is always dressed head to toe in rare designer pieces that I mentally catalog and Google later to gag at the price tag. On this particular evening, she was wearing a floor length shearling coat with a gauzy dress underneath (obsessed with the texture play) and a Bulgari Serpenti necklace. I get the feeling that Margot doesn’t really like her that much or understand her because Erika is so different from the rest of their friend group. Erika is originally from Miami and frequently posts bikini pictures and ass pictures on her Instagram stories. I’ve overheard Margot and her friends saying things like, “Did you see what Erika posted this morning?” And then they all make faces. I’m sure it doesn’t help that Erika looks like Anitta (but somehow prettier????) and despite having a set of twins, has a body that all of us could only dream of.

So anyway, I was sitting on the couch chatting with Erika after doing my rounds and socializing with everyone. I don’t know if this happens with age, but my social battery drains really fast these days. Like, if I’m not interested in talking to you, it’s hard for me to pretend. Or maybe it stems from talking to other parents who love to compare their children and their milestones. Obviously I believe Winnie is a genius and perfect and the standard for excellence, but I don’t want people telling me how much better their kid is at everything.

Brendan came over to bring me another glass of wine (and provided the tasting notes) and sat on the arm of the couch chatting with us for a little bit. When he got up and walked away, Erika said, “Do you ever look at him and think, ‘I could just kill you right now?’”

“Yes, all the time,” I replied.

I think another reason Margot and her friends don’t really like Erika is because she says off the wall shit like that with no preamble or context and if you get it then you get it and if you don’t, you think she’s a freak. I don’t actually think of murdering Brendan because what would I do without him, but I knew what she meant. I frequently see him and get the urge to punch him in the face. It’s called cuteness aggression and I get the same feeling when I see puppy videos.

“The other night I put my hand around my husband’s neck during sex prepared to squeeze the life out of him,” she said.

“Oh my god,” I said and we both laughed even though it sounded like the climax of a very juicy episode of a true crime podcast.

A little while later, we were still sitting there, but Brendan’s crazy uncle had joined us. I think the uncle is super amused by me and always gravitates to me during parties because I will bitch and complain with him about everything and everyone. He’s a big shit talker like me.

I heard a bit of commotion behind me and turned around to see Danielle (Brendan’s sister) walking in the room with Reagan (Brendan’s ex-wife). Everyone in the general vicinity seemed really surprised, but happy to see them. I watched as Brendan hugged his sister and then turned to Reagan. She put her hand on his shoulder and gave him one of those rich people air cheek kisses and then they hugged. I was like: 

I’ve only seen Brendan’s ex-wife in person a couple of times and the last time I saw them together they didn’t even look at each other, let alone hug. I was very curious to know what had happened between then and now and had she finally given Brendan the engagement ring back? And do you remember the time I got disinvited to a wedding (at Margot’s request) because she was going to be there? And now here she was at Friendsgiving. This particular party did seem slightly bigger than the usual, but still. This seemed like such an escalation.

I turned back around and pretended I wasn’t trying to overhear what was going on behind me.

“So yeah, fuck that,” Erika was saying. She had been telling a story about getting kicked out of a hotel pool.

“Ha!” the uncle exclaimed.

Behind me, I heard them all laughing.

“I’m always thrown out when I’m the least drunk I’ve ever been,” the uncle said.

“Well, I was shitfaced, to be fair,” Erika said.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Brendan was still standing there chatting with Danielle and Reagan and Margot had joined them and was pouring wine into their glasses.

“Be right back,” I said, standing up. I had to see what was going on. Wouldn’t you? Plus I didn’t want to seem like I was being petty by not saying hello. We could all exist in this space together as far as I was concerned even if it went against everything I’d been led to believe up until that point.

I joined their little huddle and Margot said, “Need a refill?” in her super sweet hostessy kind of way.

“Sure,” I said back.

“It would be rude not to and I would personally take offense,” she laughed.

“Is this one of the bottles you brought back from Portugal? It’s actually so good,” Danielle said.

“Isn’t it? Jamie and I were so impressed by Douro…”

Margot began to explain their trip and I felt Reagan’s Miley Cyrus blue eyes on me. She sure has an issue with staring, I’ve noticed in the few brief times I’ve been around her, which is really wild considering she has such huge striking eyes. She was wearing a blazer dress and had straightened her hair into absolute oblivion. From what I could tell she had recently gotten lip filler and I wondered if I needed to look into getting my own done.

We made eye contact and Reagan put her hand out to shake mine. “Hi, I’m Reagan.”

Oh. Was she pretending not to know me or did she genuinely not remember ever meeting me? Like I said, it’s only been a few times — maybe three or four — and each time we’ve encountered each other, it’s been super brief. But I truly find it hard to believe that she has no idea who I am, especially when she’s been living rent free in my head.

“I’m Reese. We’ve met before,” I said.

“Oh, oops. Sorry,” She giggled and Brendan and Danielle started awkwardly laughing too. “Good to see you then.”

Whatever.

“Anyway,” Margot said, mostly to Danielle and Reagan. “Please eat. There’s a bit of everything.”

“Yeah, let’s. I’ve been thinking about jalapeño cornbread all week,” Danielle said.

She and Reagan walked away and I heard Reagan say, “I’m not even hungry.”

Then why was she even here? Just to annoy me? It was Friendsgiving!

Margot walked away too. Brendan turned and gave me an awkward smile and aw-shucks shrug like he couldn’t help what just happened before grabbing my chin. “You good?”

“I’m fine, Brendan,” I said.

“I didn’t know she was coming. It’s okay though, right?” he said.

“I literally do not care,” I replied because I didn’t. “But I didn’t know you were friends again.”

“We’re not,” Brendan said.

“Oh. It sort of seems like it.”

“We’re not. I haven’t seen her in, I don’t know, months. We don’t talk and we are not friends.”

“Mmkay.” What else could I say? Brendan is not a liar and he doesn’t lie to me, but there had to be more to the story than this. But it wasn’t the time or place to discuss plus I was still trying to be on my best behavior after the wedding, you know?

Kendall, Brendan’s bestie from high school, was there with his parents so we went over and hung out with them for a while. Kendall’s dad used to play some sport professionally and he’s very handsome. Yes, I’m calling another man besides my boyfriend hot (someone messaged me about that once), but what can I say? Brendan has a lot of very good looking people in his life. It’s not like I want to fuck any of them.

I caught Reagan staring at me several times throughout the rest of the evening. Like, more than four times, but I lost count and it was really making me mad. Like, if you have an issue with me, just say that, don’t pretend you don’t know who I am and act all nice. And if she did have an issue, what was the reason? Isn’t she the one who filed for divorce because she was seeing other people? She didn’t even want Brendan when they were together!

Eventually Danielle came over to say, “We’re going out downtown.”

“Dancing?” Brendan said.

“Mmhm.” Danielle glanced at me like I should care.

Brendan said, “Have fun. We’re probably gonna get going soon too.”

And then they proceeded to continue their conversation for another ten minutes. Reagan came over and said nothing, but instead of staring at me she was now staring at Brendan. And after her staring at me all night (again) I was feeling kind of hostile and territorial.

“Mmkay, well I hope you all have fun dancing,” I said. By the way, I’m starting to lose my southern vernacular and I say “y’all” a lot less than I used to and it’s a little bit upsetting.

They all looked at me and Danielle gave me this eye roll/scoff like I was being ridiculous. She’s such a bitch to me and I am nothing but nice to her. 

We all said our goodbyes and Reagan and Danielle both hugged Brendan. And then Reagan gave me a waify little hug. And then because she felt obligated, Danielle hugged me too. I don’t think I’ve ever hugged Danielle so it was really weird. Despite all the staring and pretending not to know who I am, I thought Reagan was kind of harmless and seemed nice enough. We weren’t going to be besties nor did we need to be, but if Danielle insisted on bringing her around, I could be cool.

The next morning I got curious and logged into my Finsta so I could view Reagan’s Instagram story. She’d posted a grainy, pixelated quote that said something like, “There will always be someone prettier, younger, and smarter.”

And then her next story was a backseat selfie with the caption, “BUT AT LEAST SHE’S NOT!”

Oh? Did she mean me? Is that why she had been staring at me all night — to see if I was uglier and older than her? And how old was this bitch anyway? I always just assumed she and Brendan were the same age since they grew up together and he’s older than me (by 6 months). I’ll admit the selfie was quite flattering, considering she was clearly wearing her blazer dress with her flat hair and I’d seen her in person that night and she definitely didn’t look as good in person. So if she thought she was prettier than me, it didn’t really bother me that much or at least, not as much as it probably would have a few years ago. And smarter? Girl, get real!

Brendan spent the day trying to get me to come over to his parents’ house even though I told him I was having a me day. He didn’t understand my desire to be alone on a holiday and kept offering to come pick me up or send an Uber. I’m like, “Dude no, I’m watching Sutton have a meltdown!” And waiting with bated breath for your ex-wife to post about me again.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have sat alone with my thoughts for so long because by the evening, I was feeling kind of insecure and depressed. I’d missed Thanksgiving dinner, but Brendan suggested drinks at this tiny restaurant in between our apartments. I was like, “Fine, I guess I could actually shower and leave my home for once today.”

We sat down and Brendan wanted to talk about his family and what they’d done all day and how Danielle said she was out until 5am dancing and sorry if it was awkward with his ex at Friendsgiving, but he didn’t expect her to be there. I’m like, yeah no offense, but I don’t give a fuck about your family right now.

“If she hadn’t filed for divorce, were you going to?” I asked.

“Uh.” Brendan looked considerably uncomfy. “I didn’t plan to.”

“So you still wanted to be with her?” I clarified. “Like, you’d still be together if it was your choice?”

“No, the breakup and divorce was definitely the right decision,” he said.

“But if you weren’t planning on ever divorcing her then what did you expect to happen?” I asked.

Brendan stared at me blankly like that thought had literally never crossed his mind. Men are so fucking stupid.

“You know, to this day, Brady has never had a breakup conversation with me. He told everyone but me that our relationship was over.”

“Oh.”

“And now he has a new serious girlfriend who he lives with, but has never even bothered to discuss breaking up with me.”

“Oh, uh.” Brendan gave me a weird look, not following. “But didn’t you get into a new relationship before he did?”

“Yes! That’s why he did it! That’s my point, I was the one who had to do something first otherwise he was just going to continue pretending to be in a relationship that neither of us wanted to be in!” I exclaimed.

“Uh, okay….” he said. “So do you wish you were still with him?”

“No, not even a little bit! I just don’t understand why it’s so hard for guys to be honest and say the relationship is over,” I said.

“Okay,” Brendan said.

I wanted to add, “Especially when she’s been cheating on you.” But I knew better than to bring that up. I don’t think he fully got what I was saying, especially because I used me and Brady as an example. It wasn’t about us — it was about Brendan and Reagan! He said the end of their relationship was so bad and toxic that he was ready for it to be over for months — but had no plans to divorce her? Insanity!!

I kind of felt that I was on thin ice after Brendan took the Instagram pictures down so I was on my very best behavior after the wedding. The next day, Jasmine and I FaceTimed before Brendan and I took off back to the city. She asked if I’d apologized to him and when I told her that I hadn’t, she said I should. I was like, oh so it must’ve been really bad because I didn’t even think Jasmine was paying attention and she never gives me relationship advice.

Brendan didn’t seem mad and had even spent the morning reviewing accomodations with me for yet another vacation we would be taking in a few months. But still, Jasmine was probably right so I went back to the bedroom where Brendan was laying shirtless on the bed, playing games on his phone.

I laid next to him and said, “I know last night was like, so much fun, but I feel like I should apologize for making you mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he said.

“Right, but you were.”

“Okay, yeah I was,” Brendan said. “That was really abrupt and your timing sucked. Thanks for the apology.”

I was thinking, “Okay, remind me to never do that again.” I didn’t ask for all that and maybe my timing was slightly off, but I wouldn’t say it “sucked.” But as much as I wanted to argue back, I knew better than to pick a fight that was already seemingly over.

And since I wasn’t trying to rock the boat, I decided not to immediately call Brendan after finding out about Brady and Caroline moving in together. I called my mom instead. I hadn’t had a significant conversation with that lady in months, but I knew she’d be on my side and talk shit with me.

“Hi hon!” she answered. “I’m getting ready for brunch with the girls. What’s up?”

Brunch? My mom really thinks she’s a millennial.

“Brady is moving in with his new girlfriend next weekend and he just now told me,” I said.

“Oh, is he? Is she pregnant?” My mom asked.

“I doubt it,” I said and just the thought of it made me burst into tears and I had to pull over. She hounded me with questions I had no way of knowing the answer to like: “Why is he just now telling you?” and “How long have they been planning to move in together?” and “What does his mother think about this?” and “Is Cara’s house nice?” And then finally she said what I’ve been telling her for years.

“Well, he is an asshole.”

It’s like, ya think? I’d been waiting for her obsession to wear off and for her to see how terrible he actually is. By the time we hung up I felt slightly better about the Brady situation — he is an asshole and he has been since I can remember and I’m baffled that we spent so long in a relationship. But I didn’t feel good about my mom going to brunch and likely overdoing it on mimosas (been there) and making an ass of herself.

The following week, I let Winnie know that she’d be staying in the city with me through the weekend and then I asked if her dad told her that they were moving. She nodded in that hesitant kind of way she does when she isn’t sure what the correct answer is. Usually Winnie has a lot to say, but she didn’t say anything.

“And did he tell you that Caroline will be living there with you?” I asked.

Winnie nodded again.

“Are you okay with that?”

She shrugged.

“Do you like Caroline?”

“No,” Winnie said simply. “She doesn’t share any of her things and sharing is caring.”

“You have your own stuff. And you know your daddy really likes her, don’t you?” I said.

“No, he doesn’t. He only likes me.”

I could not in good faith argue with that. That weekend we hopped in the car with Brendan to go to his parent’s house for a dinner party. On the way over there I said, “Winnie, did you tell Brendan that you’re moving?”

“No,” she said from her seat in the back.

“Where to?” Brendan asked before I could even finish my bit.

“To Caroline’s house with your dad?” I went on.

“Yeah!” Winnie said.

“Whoa! That’s really cool,” Brendan said. I couldn’t tell if he was just saying that for Winnie’s benefit or if he really thought it was “cool.” I wanted to gauge his reaction to see if he thought it was weird because hello? My goal is to move Winnie and myself into his home eventually as well.

So we got to the parent’s house for dinner where a few of Margo’s friends and their husbands/kids already were plus Brendan’s uncle and cousins and their kids. Winnie has met a few of the kids before and she’s particularly close with Brendan’s cousin, Daphne’s 6-year-old son, Levi. (What would your cousin’s kid be in relation to you? A second cousin? Please let me know — I don’t have any extended family). And when I say close, I mean Winnie bosses him around and he follows her around the house carrying all her toys she brought with her. Mama taught her well.

Dinner was catered and served buffet style, which would have been fine, but the older children who were able to served themselves first and they dug their hands in the pans and licked their fingers and I definitely saw a couple of them picking wedgies earlier in the night. So I was disgusted by the whole thing. I respect Margo and her choices so much, but who has a buffet dinner with children? Brendan made eye contact with me and smirked — because he knows my deep rooted trauma of finding a long, stringy hair in the bulk bin at Whole Foods pre-Covid. So I didn’t eat anything except a couple of grapes from Winnie’s plate. And drank a ton of wine.

Danielle showed up as the night was winding down. Brendan’s sister? She always pops up here and there and brings her dark energy with her. We’re friendly, but not friends and don’t go out of our way to talk to each other.

So I was a little surprised when she sidled up next to me with her glass of wine.

“So I wanted to tell you,” she said. “I started watching the Real Housewives the other day. I know you’re really into it.”

“Oh, fun! Cool. Which city?” I said back.

“New York.”

“The best. What did you think?”

I was thinking: “Wow, if she can get into Housewives and Bravo and we have that to talk about, we could perhaps become friends!”

Danielle said, “I only made it through like two episodes. Is it really just about a bunch of elitists fighting over stupid things? I don’t get it.”

“Yes,” I said. That’s literally the point. Mindless escapism with occasional wealth porn (Hi @ Dr. Nicole Martin).

“Seems really vapid,” she added.

“Yeah, it’s not for everyone,” I said.

So I guess we wouldn’t be bonding over our love of Housewives. Not exactly shocked that she isn’t a Bravo girl though. Those who get it, get it and those who don’t, don’t. Tell me, do any of y’all watch reality TV? I feel like I reference it a lot in my posts, are my references landing?

Brady offered to pick Winnie up in the city the following Saturday after his big move. This was after I requested his new address so I’d know where to take her. I’m like, “Uh, no. I’m bringing her to you as I’d like to see where my child will be living.” Of course he would try to gatekeep the address as if I wouldn’t have to have it eventually. So annoying.

Winnie and I jumped in the car and headed to the new address. Sure enough, it was just about 15 minutes deeper into the Connecticut ‘burbs. Not crazy out of the way, but we definitely needed to take another look at our visitation and drop off schedule.

And you know the worst part? The further I got from our old house and the closer I got to Caroline’s house, the more beautiful the houses and neighborhoods got. The old neighborhood we lived in was very much for commuters who couldn’t afford the space they needed in the city and it showed. It’s like these neighborhoods were for true CT people who were content living in the suburbs and their sprawling, manicured lawns and big Cape Cod style houses reflected that.

So when we pulled up to this gorgeous, white and brick house with shutters and a big red door, I was relieved that it wasn’t a shit hole, but mad that Caroline owned that big ass house. She’s fucking 28 with no children and a small dog, why did she need with all this house?

“Here,” I texted Brady and then Caroline came bounding out of the house.

“You found it! Come in!” she practically screamed.

You know what else is funny? It became immediately apparent that Winnie was familiar with the house and had been there before. Which is fine, I just felt out of the loop. Winnie usually always tells me everything, but hadn’t mentioned any field trips to Caroline’s home. So whatever.

Anyway, the house inside was nice I guess, in that Amazon influencer kind of way. Well, it was nice besides Caroline’s yapping ass dog who also greeted us at the door. Brady came out of the woodworks and greeted Winnie and pretended I didn’t exist.

“So yeah! This is it!” Caroline said.

“Cute. May I have a tour?” I asked.

She hesitated and looked at Brady and he said, “Sure.”

Uh, k. Why did she need his permission when it was her house allegedly? So the four of us walked through the living room and dining room (cute, but far too beige), the kitchen (cheap), and a couple of bathrooms circa 1998. Then we went upstairs to the bedrooms and I was horrified at the state of Winnie’s bedroom. The walls were painted an offensive Tiffany blue color that matched none of her furniture and decor (not that any of the decor had been installed). Every other room was painted eggshell white, why was Winnie’s room left this heinous hue? And the overhead lighting was super unforgiving and ugly and ruined the entire vibe.

“We’ll need to do some work in here,” I said sweetly.

“Yeah, we wanted to hang up all of her things, but haven’t gotten a chance,” Caroline said.

“And maybe a fresh coat of paint,” I suggested.

She frowned. “Aww, I thought it was pretty.”

“It looks like a sorority girl’s room from 2009.” But you’d know nothing about that since you’re basically still a child yourself.

We continued the tour and I counted four bedrooms total and an office which is about the same size as Brady’s (and my’s) old house. It was normal for him/us, but now all I could think about was them expanding their little family.

Brendan made reservations for dinner on the Upper East Side which was a treat since he’s typically a neighborhood, walk-right-in restaurant kinda guy. And at a place neither of us had been to so I was excited to try it. We ordered a bottle of wine and I sipped my glass while watching him order the half of the menu we decided on together. I was thinking: “That’s my fucking man and he’s so fucking cute and I love him so much, I’d die for him — I should probably stop pushing my limits.”

Once the server took our order and walked away, I said, “So I’m dying to tell you about Brady and Caroline and their house.”

Brendan listened while I painted the entire picture for him: the complete difference in vibes and acreage from the old house to the new, the 4+ bedroom house for a 28 year old, the lack of attention to Winnie’s room, Brady’s entire demeanor. And isn’t it so odd that Brady waited until he absolutely had to to tell me about them moving in together and honestly, the fact that they’re moving in together in the first place?

“I really don’t think it’s that weird,” Brendan said. “I mean, the fact that he didn’t tell you is. But like, would us moving in together be weird?”

“No,” I said dreamily.

He went into all this stuff about zip codes and municipalities and school districts and other information I did not ask for. And then he’s like, “Would you ever move back to Connecticut?”

I said, “Ew, no. I mean, the house was nice, but not that nice.”

“Okay, good because I don’t want to live there either,” Brendan said, smiling.

After dinner we went back to Brendan’s place because he wanted to go to his local workout class the next morning. So we got in bed, hooked up and then went to sleep.

Okay, I really shouldn’t be saying this or even thinking it, but just between us squirrel friends (another reality show reference):

I kind of miss having sex with Brady. I know. I can’t even look at him like that anymore and I’m grossed out even typing it. He was just really good at matching my energy and rhythm and making me orgasm. Like, he would go down on me for five minutes and I’d come. I guess he just really knew what he was doing. And Brendan, bless his heart, is enthusiastic, but is so gentle and sweet and touches me like he’s afraid to hurt me. It’s like, no actually I do want to hurt a little bit. Leave a bruise. And I’ve tried to guide him (I’ll literally grab his hand and show him how hard I like my ass slapped) but there’s only so much coaching a gal can do before it gets weird. So usually I let him do his cutesy thing for a while before I push him down and climb on top to get myself off.

Anywho. Talk to y’all later!

Have I mentioned how much I despise Florida as a concept? But I guess I can admit that it’s starting to grow on me a little bit. I know that Brendan used to go with his ex-wife quite often, but it still feels like an escape for us. I’m obviously still weirded out about him galavanting with me all around the places he used to go with his ex, but I think I’m starting to get over it. What else can I do?

We got to the airport before our trip and I couldn’t wait to complain to Brendan about my conversation with Mike. We grabbed drinks in the lounge (of course Brendan is an airport lounge kinda guy) and I unloaded on him. I was like, “I love how she couldn’t even handle her one job and now I’m suddenly good enough to be his VP after years of doing it for her. At this point I don’t even want to fucking do it anymore. I just want to go back to my old job and have all my free time back. I’m over it!”

“Really? I thought you’d be excited,” Brendan said.

Apparently Mike had spoken to Brendan about my potential promotion because he wanted to get his opinion before he asked me.

“No offense, but why?” I asked.

“He just wanted to know if I thought he should ask you and if I thought you’d do it,” Brendan explained.

“And you told him yes?” I clarified, fuming.

“Yeah, I told him that you deserve it and that he should offer it to you.”

“Wow, so you think I should take it?”

“I do, but it kind of sounds like you don’t want to?” he said.

Did my disgusted scowl and clenched fists give it away? Clearly we were not on the same page and he didn’t care if I had free time to hang out with him or not.

“I don’t know. I told him I’d think about it while on vacation so I guess we’ll all see what I decide,” I said.

“Okay,” Brendan said, like it didn’t matter to him either way.

Whatever! So anyway, the rest of the trip was fine. I really want to emphasize that it was just fine, nothing more and nothing less, because after a week of waking up early, giving 15% effort at going to a workout class, eating whatever high protein brunch the chef made, taking a walk or laying around the pool, drinking 2 glasses of wine at dinner while sitting side by side and making future plans, coming home for some sort of sexual activity for approximately one hour before falling asleep and doing the same again the next day, I’d had enough fun and was kind of ready to get home. Brendan, on the other hand, revealed that he’d been thinking about investing in property in Florida.

“I come here often enough and I think it’d be nice to have my own place to escape the city in the winter,” he explained.

“But it’s Florida,” I pointed out.

“Yeah. Perfect weather. I love it here,” Brendan said.

He hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting permanent ties to Florida in all the many conversations we’d been having about our future and I was beyond annoyed.

“So you wanna help me pick out a place?” he asked.

“Well, obviously.” If Brendan was insistent on making Florida a thing, then I would happily use his money on the perfect dream vacation home for us and Winnie. I created a Pinterest titled “Florida 🌴🌊🍹🏠” and came up with an interior and exterior color palette, general vibe and aesthetic, landscaping story and window treatment ideas to present at a later date.

We headed to Puerto Rico on a tiny plane on Friday afternoon which I hated, but got over once we arrived at the chic little resort that Miguel and Jasmine had chosen for their wedding festivities. There were welcome cocktails later that night down at one of the bars at the resort and we stayed out late drinking with the wedding party.

The ceremony was the following day and it was really beautiful and I sobbed (as I do). It was a traditional catholic ceremony, I guess, which I didn’t necessarily see for Miguel and Jasmine. The ceremony was extremely long and Jasmine looked stunning.

Then we took shuttles from the church back to the resort for the reception and the reception was…fine. Well, it started off fine. I wore a long, flowy dress by Zimmermann and we walked down the candlelit path to where the reception was being held. The ballroom overlooked the beach and I appreciated the sunset and lighting setup, the music situation (a classy DJ who wasn’t super cheesy), the open wine-beer-tequila bar (that’s all you need really), and the passed appetizers which I’m sure were amazing (I didn’t have any). To no one’s surprise, Miguel and Jasmine both come from insanely gorgeous families and I’m obsessed with all of them. Miguel’s mother, who bears a striking resemblance to Paula Abdul, followed me on Instagram and has been sending me videos and inspirational quotes since the wedding. Love her so much. And I danced for hours with someone’s toddler who had no business being at the reception in the first place, but he was so fucking cute and I wanted to drop him in my carry-on and take him home with me!

The trouble began toward the end of the night and a few of us were hanging out at the bar. All of the elders and children had gone to bed and Miguel mentioned going out dancing. It was Brendan and me, Miguel and Jasmine, Jasmine’s sister and her wife, and their sexy relative, Freddie, who I would’ve been deeply attracted to, but he had been vaping all night. Jasmine had changed out of her gown and into a beaded little swan number that I’d need details on later.

“This was like, so incred. Is it everything you hoped for?” I said to Jasmine.

“For sure, but I’m just happy for it to be over and now I’m a wifey,” she said. “So what about you guys? Do you see yourself married?”

“I mean, yeah I want to of course,” I said. Up until then the conversation had mostly been between Jasmine and me and I put my hand on Brendan’s shoulder. “But I don’t know if we’re both ready for that.”

“What does that mean?” Brendan asked.

“Well. I imagine that if you’ve already been married once you wouldn’t be rushing to do it again. I certainly wouldn’t,” I explained.

“That’s totally valid,” Jasmine said in that blank, spacey kinda way.

“And having more than one big wedding in your lifetime seems crazy to me and I want a big wedding.”

Brendan didn’t say anything, but was looking at me like I should probably shut up.

“And like,” I continued, teetering into dangerous territory. “I think you should be 100% over your first marriage before getting into another. Like, talking about it shouldn’t be weird and you shouldn’t have all of your pictures still posted everywhere, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jasmine said, sounding like Kourtney Kardashian.

“Now you’re gonna piss me off,” Brendan said.

“Okay, nevermind. We can talk about it later,” I said to Jasmine.

“You guysssss,” Miguel, who had unbuttoned his dress shirt down to his navel, said as he leaned over to us. “Tonight is gonna be fun, right?”

“Right,” Jasmine agreed.

Brendan took his beer and walked away from the bar, clearly annoyed with me. I stood there with a stupid look on my face as if I hadn’t brought this on myself.

“I think he’s mad. Maybe you should go check on him and see,” Jasmine suggested.

“No, he’s fine,” Miguel said. He grabbed me and pulled me in between him and Jasmine. “You want another drink? What about a shot?”

“Yeah, let’s all do shots!” Jasmine said.

“No, I don’t want a shot,” I said.

“But it’s our wedding. Once in a lifetime,” Miguel said. At that point he had his arm around my waist, much like he does with the 23-year-old happy-hour-whores that he loves so much.

So I took the shot and then said, “Okay, I’m going to find my man.”

Miguel pretended to grab onto me so I couldn’t leave, but I broke away and continued on. Unclear what his motivations were on his wedding night, but I’m not his type so I don’t know why he was trying anything with me. The party had significantly died down so I easily found Brendan standing near an exit with one of he and Miguel’s friends.

“Hiiiiii,” I greeted him.

“Hi,” Brendan said.

“Are we fighting?” I asked.

The friend took the hint and walked away.

“No,” Brendan said.

“Okay, but you’re mad at me?”

“No, but you all of a sudden have an issue with me being married before. What do you want me to do about that?” he said.

“I don’t have an issue with you being married. I feel like having a starter wife was good training for you.”

Brendan did not find my joke funny.

“My issue is that you get really weird when your ex-wife is brought up in any capacity and you refuse to talk about it, yet you still have all of your pictures plastered all over Instagram talking about how much you love each other,” I explained calmly.

“Okay, we can talk about it then. What exactly do you want to know?” Brendan said.

What I really wanted to know was: if he loved Reagan as much as it seemed and the marriage still failed, how could he ever get married again? Like, how was I/us different? But that seemed like something really dense to get into at that moment so I said, “I can’t think of anything right now so I’ll come up with some stuff and write it down.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Maybe if I didn’t constantly have to see all your pictures together on Instagram, it wouldn’t bother me so much.”

“So you want me to delete them?”

OBVIOUSLY. Do you remember when Brendan said that I had to be very direct with him because he can’t read my mind? He was not kidding about that. God. “That would be ideal.”

“Okay, I’ll delete them,” Brendan said.

So…it finally happened. The next morning when I checked (you know I checked), all of Brendan’s offensive sappy pictures were gone from his Instagram. And to put it into perspective, without all of those pictures, he only had like 20 pictures left on his feed so you can see why it bothered me so much. And I know bringing it up at Miguel and Jasmine’s wedding wasn’t my best decision, but the pictures are gone now so I will count it as a win.

After talking to my dad about it, I decided to take the promotion. I didn’t have a real reason not to and since I was already doing the job anyway, it made sense to be compensated for it. But I was not happy about it. And of course Mike wasted no time forwarding me emails with no context to deal with and looping me into things I have no prior knowledge of or experience doing. So things have been going great.

The Saturday after I got home, I dropped Winnie off with Brady. And when I got there, half the house was in boxes and he let me know that he was moving into a new house the following weekend so Winnie could stay with me. I was aware that Brady sold his house months ago, but I hadn’t heard him talk about it again and hadn’t considered that he’d eventually be moving out.

“So where are you going?” I asked him.

“Only about 15 minutes away. Not far,” Brady said, purposely vague.

“Works for me,” I said. “Did you buy a new house? Do you have pictures?”

“No…I’m moving into Cara’s,” Brady said.

What? I just stared at him, wondering what the actual fuck was going on?

“Oh. So y’all are actually serious?” I finally said.

“I guess so. I mean, I don’t know. She’s owned her house for a few years and it’s closer to work,” he said.

“And Winnie is going to live there with you too?” I clarified.

“Yes. She has a room at the house.”

I kind of felt like I was going to faint or implode or combust. Why was I just now finding out about this? Brady can obviously do whatever the fuck he wants, but I was having a hard time accepting my child living with some lady we barely know. Caroline seems sweet enough, but she could be a child eater for all we know. And even Brady didn’t seem all that convinced.

“Well, I hope this is a good idea,” I said.

“Yep,” Brady said.

“And Winnie is okay with it?”

“Sure. I think she’s excited about it.”

In my mind, he was lying and that Winnie was unaware of the move. Winnie tells me everything and I know she would’ve mentioned something this big to me if she knew about it. I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised since I think Brady and I moved in together the first time after less than a year. But there’s a child involved now. I don’t know. Let me know if I am wrong for being bothered or if I am just bitter?

I have so much more to tell y’all, but I’m struggling so much to find time. I’ll try to post again soon!

I really need to stop having meltdowns in nail salons. To his credit, Brendan sat there with me and allowed me to cry and vent and did his best to make me feel better. I can’t say that if the roles were reversed I could’ve sat with him while he sobbed like his life was over so I appreciated that. Like get a grip!

“So how was your trip?” I asked once my Menty B miraculously passed. You know how those things always go!

“Fine,” Brendan said matter of factly, like he wasn’t sure why I was asking.

“I thought you would send me pictures or text me while you were away,” I said.

And then Brendan said, “I think we both needed some space from each other.”

I guess I didn’t realize that he needed space too. I hadn’t really considered his feelings at all, if we’re being honest. I always forget that Brendan has feelings as I’m not used to men having them. “Oh yeah, same!”

“Yeah.”

“Have you had enough space from me?” I asked.

“Yeah. However,” he said. “I don’t understand what happened the other night, but I am really not okay with the way you behaved toward me.”

Oop! The nail lady looked up and I looked at her so she pretended not to be listening.

“So have you had enough space?” Brendan asked.

Typically, I would’ve pushed back and defended my actions (as far as I’m concerned my response was appropriate seeing as how he took my enemy’s side) and pointed out the fact that he was okay with me getting yelled at, but I was being the one held accountable? I was not okay with the way he behaved toward me either! But truthfully, I had had enough space and I didn’t want to argue with him in the busy nail salon with so many nosy ears.

“For sure,” I answered.

He’s lucky I love him because the whole situation seemed overly dramatic. I’ve since accepted that I was wrong for telling Caroline that Brady is a cheater (he is), but I maintain that Brendan was not on my side after that altercation and I did not appreciate that!

So I guess we got over that, but I needed to be on my best behavior because despite how it may seem I don’t actually enjoy fighting with Brendan. And you know what? Next time Winnie’s school had a wine night, I would be going alone.

So anyway. Brendan convinced me to go and see my mom and I guess I am thankful for that extra push because you know I probably wouldn’t have gone otherwise. And he kept wanting to know how she’s doing and it’s like, fuck if I know, I’m avoiding her like last season’s Balenciaga! And besides I had other things to worry about.

As I mentioned before, Winnie had been getting sick a lot. A cold here, an ear infection there, a stomach bug in between. My poor little baby! It’s a shame she got her immune system from her dad because mine is impeccable. She used to get ear infections a lot when she was younger, but I thought she’d grown out until they came back with a vengeance over the summer. Brady would always take her to her primary doctor in Connecticut and inform me of the outcome (usually a short round of antibiotics and then babygirl was good as new). A couple weeks after cheater-gate, Winnie got sick again. Admittedly, Brady and I were in a very rough place. I guess when he said he was done with me he really meant that! I didn’t even understand why because personally I was over our fight and I thought he should be too. Especially considering Caroline was posting pictures of them together on Instagram so they were still happily together. So since he was still mad, I was now mad again too.

So anyway, Winnie got sick and I asked Brady (via text) to schedule an appointment and take her to the doctor on Monday.

“Why can’t you take her?” he texted back.

Uhh. “Because she’ll be with you on Monday. And her doctor is in Connecticut, where you live. Why would I take her?”

“Because you’re her mother. I don’t understand why you can never take her and it’s always up to me,” Brady said.

“And you’re her father. Wtf? Why is this suddenly a problem?”

He said, “It’s not a problem, but you need to prioritize finding Winnie a doctor in the city if you don’t want to bring her here.”

Who was he to tell me what I need to prioritize? Like he’s my boss? And what if I didn’t, was he going to fire me? We went back and forth and he accused me of being “entitled.” Me, entitled? I mean, maybe, but not for this reason.

“I’ll just take her then. It’s literally not a big deal,” I finally said since he was making it one.

“No, I’ll take her,” Brady said.

Hmph, exactly as I thought! You see how he just argues with me for the fun of it? What a waste of time. There was absolutely no point in any of that except I actually was going to find her a doctor near us so I didn’t have to ask Brady for a goddamn thing.

On Monday, Brady called. I was horizontal on my office floor trying to unwind after a 2 hour meeting with Mike. He’s so fucking exhausting.

“Hi,” I answered.

“Hello,” Brady said. “Winnie needs to have an adenoidectomy.”

I sat up. “A what? What the fuck is that?”

“She needs her adenoids removed.”

“Why? What is an adenoid?” I asked. I’d never heard that term before in my life.

He explained to me what the doctor told him about an infection and a buildup of fluids (fluids is officially my least favorite word in the dictionary) and that they’d need to put her to sleep to remove the excess tissue and—

“So like surgery? No. She’s a baby,” I said.

“Well, if we don’t do it then she will keep getting sick. And when she gets sick like that it becomes hard for her to breathe. And with fluid building up I am afraid it could lead to permanent damage like hearing loss…” Brady said.

I started crying. What? Trouble breathing? What was he even talking about? Surgery? Permanent hearing loss? I never thought her illness was this serious.

“I know,” Brady sighed, which is perhaps the most sympathetic thing he’s ever said to me. “But we’ve always known this would be a possibility. I told you that, didn’t I?”

Brady and his fucking “I told you that, didn’t I?” clueless bullshit! It’s beyond irritating! But I didn’t even care because now I knew and I was inconsolable.

“So we don’t have a choice?” I said.

“Not really, no,” he said. “We were thinking of doing the procedure on Friday or Monday. Whichever you prefer.”

I sobbed.

“It’s going to be okay, Reese,” Brady said calmly. “It sounds scary, but it’s an extremely common and routine surgery.”

He talked me through  the procedure and recovery and we decided to schedule it for Monday, that way I could stay home for the remainder of the week to care for her. Brady briefly acted like he would be able to do it, but we all know that Brady doesn’t ever take off work.

I was distraught over Winnie having surgery, but if I’m being honest, it’s what got Brady and I (and Caroline by association) back on speaking terms. I was feeling slightly better by Saturday (no thanks to Brendan who had taken it upon himself to scour Google to find real stories of children having the surgery and possible complications) and Brady and I discussed everything again. I’d briefly explained to Winnie that she was going to be having a procedure — I didn’t think Brady had the emotional capabilities to do it — and maybe I hyped it up a bit too much because now she was excited about it.

Brady said something like he was glad I was feeling better about it and I was like, I’m really not, I just literally don’t have a choice. And do you know that Brady grabbed my shoulder and he hugged me?

He’s like, “I can assure you you have nothing to worry about.”

I was mostly just shocked that he was touching me. Brady doesn’t ever touch me on purpose, not since that time we accidentally made out. His thin body felt familiar, but super weird and I kind of recoiled. So he didn’t touch me again. Thank God.

Brendan actually hung out with me all weekend which was a nice distraction because otherwise I probably would’ve sat at home alone drinking myself into oblivion.

But by Monday, I was a wreck again. Obviously I took the day off so I could go to the doctor with Winnie and support her and make sure everything went smoothly. And do you know who else was there for support? Little Miss Caroline. I hadn’t seen her at all since the altercation, but the last thing I was worried about was her. She was already at Brady’s early Monday morning when I got there like she’d spent the night (on a school night? Good for them).

“Hey Reese! Nice to see you!” Caroline said like we were all good.

“Hi, same,” I said back.

Brady was standing there and I told him how scared and freaked out I was, thinking he’d comfort me like he did over the weekend. But instead he was like, “Calm down, there’s no reason to be scared. If Winnie sees you upset then she’s going to be upset, etc.” All dismissively. So I guess not.

Caroline said, “I know you’re thinking about everything that could go wrong, but think of everything that could go right, which is more likely.”

She and Brady started talking to me about how quick and simple the surgery is and how the doctors are really skilled and all this stuff. Basically nerding out together with their medical jargon. And I guess maybe it worked because I was less worried about Winnie’s surgery and more focused on the fact that these two nerds made much more sense as a couple than me and Brady. Dare I say, they even looked better together? Together, to be clear. Like two cute, vanilla suburbanites!

So anyway, that’s how Brady, Caroline and I got back on speaking terms. Like nothing ever happened! Winnie’s surgery went well and she was almost back 100% by the following day. So despite my initial reservations, I’m glad we went ahead with the surgery. Not only did Winnie stop getting sick every other week, but it brought her parents back together!

Caroline couldn’t wait to resume our relationship. She really likes me. I can’t really blame her, of course, but I figured she might be a bit…apprehensive about me after everything that happened.

But nope. She went full steam ahead and we picked up right where we left off. She tells me everything like how she was adopted from a Southeast Asian country (my mom was apparently correct), but her parents won’t tell her which country because they don’t want her to go searching for her birth parents (very LVP of them). So I guess I would be getting her a 23&Me test for Christmas. And she opened up to me a little bit about her exes which stemmed from a conversation about how she is not into Asian guys. This was the first kind of weird thing she said.

I was like, “Oh really? I don’t discriminate.” I date anyone. Well, I used to. My only requirements were that 1. He was flashy and generous with his money and 2. He treated me like an afterthought.

One Saturday morning, Caroline and I were sitting at the island chatting. She had apparently gotten a lot more comfortable because she was still in her cute oversized pajamas despite it being after 11 AM. Absolutely no judgment, but it was out of character for her. She told me about how she and Brady went to some concert in the city on Thursday night and they had fun even though they were an hour and half late because they’d taken mushrooms. I was like, oh?

Brady normally doesn’t get involved in our conversations at all, but came over to change the subject. Like he didn’t want me to know that they were doing drugs together on a weeknight. Noted! It was particularly annoying because it was hard to get Brady to do anything with me during the week when we were together because he was either working at the hospital or at his computer at home, but whatever. Maybe he’s realized the error in his ways.

Maybe it was the casual mention of hallucinogenic drugs or the drama she stirred up at the bar that one night or the fact that her Tesla has had rear end damage on it for months or that her stinky sausage dog shits all over Brady’s home, but Caroline seems more chaotic than I originally thought. She always came off as this perfect good girl, but perhaps she’s not as put together as she seems. And that made me like her more.

So things were back on track with Brady (and Caroline), Winnie was thriving and Brendan was hardly working and spending a lot of time with me — in between all of his random, various trips, of course. And Winnie and I were spending a lot more time over at his place rather than our apartment. His place is sort of bachelor-y, but it’s so big and modern and nice and it feels like a vacation there. We can all actually fit in his kitchen to cook together (one downside of my new apartment is that the kitchen is small and closed off and makes me claustrophobic so I don’t use it) and sleep together in his big, comfy bed. When Brady used to bring Winnie in the bed, it would infuriate me, but somehow I’m fine with it now. Maybe it’s weird, I don’t know, but I love our little makeshift family. And I don’t even mind that Winnie has to go stay with her dad for half the week because I know how much she loves him and that she has fun over there and it gives Brendan and I some alone time. Not even just for sex, but to go out and have expensive adult dinners and stay out late and drink too much. And with Brendan working less, he’s definitely more available, but he’s always doing stuff. And I was totally jealous of his freedom and the fact that I can’t just do whatever I want during the week with him.

Miguel and Jasmine were getting married in Puerto Rico in November and Brendan suggested we go to Florida for the week prior and then head down to the wedding so I was looking forward to that. We were leaving early on Tuesday morning and I worked in the office that Monday. I couldn’t wait to slam my laptop shut and ignore my emails for the remainder of the week.

Mike called after lunch.

“Come holler at me when you have a chance,” he said.

Since when does Mike say “holler”? He’s Italian from New Jersey as far as I’m aware so this verbiage made zero sense to me coming from him.

“K, I’m coming now,” I said.

I figured he wanted to catch up before I left for my vacation where I would absolutely not be able to be reached. Mike was sitting at his desk, doing something on his iPad when I sat down. He didn’t look up. Mike has this habit of working with his iPad with it on his lap and when he’s sitting behind his desk it always looks like he’s diddling himself. So I looked out the window because it’s all I could think about.

“Paige is supposed to be back next week,” he said, not looking up.

As a reminder, Paige was our VP, who is nice enough, but totally useless. Mike has put her on a performance improvement plan in the past and she had to take a very long leave of absence due to all the stress. She had a baby over the summer and we haven’t really felt her absence (thanks to ME since I’ve been covering for her). I kind of forgot she was even due back.

“But she just emailed me her resignation,” he continued.

“Oh my god,” I said, not even trying to hide my smile. Of course she fucking milked her entire four month mat-leave before quitting. Hilarious.

“I know. It’s fucking bullshit, but HR will handle it,” he said.

“For sure.”

“Anyway, I know you’re leaving for vacation and you’re focused on that, but I wanted to see if you wanted to take over as VP,” he said.

“Oh,” I said.

“You’ll keep doing everything you’ve already been doing with the project management, you’ll work closer with me on strategy and our partners on development and it’s a significant pay rise. Significant. I don’t need an immediate answer because I know you have your vacation, but I wanted to gauge your level of interest.”

Mike finally looked up at me and to my shock and horror, I burst into tears. What the fuck is wrong with me? I totally deserved a promotion and a raise and I should’ve shouted “YES!” but I was jealous of Brendan’s freedom, remember? I was trying to work less, not more and I was looking forward to Paige coming to take her job back. I wanted more time to spend with my boyfriend and my baby and I wanted to take impromptu trips as a family and I just didn’t want to be working until 6:30 every night. With a new title, official responsibilities and more money, I would have no flexibility to do that. I wouldn’t just be covering for someone, it would be my actual job. I’ve always been career driven so on one hand I was excited and flattered, but mostly I felt dread.

“Really?” Mike said. “I don’t know what this means.”

“Can I think about it?” I said, sobbing. “I will think about it on vacation and let you know when I get back.”

He had basically no reaction to my crying and said, “We are going to look at outside candidates.”

“K,” I hiccuped.

“But I want you.”

I nodded. “K.”

And then I sulked back to my office because my day was now ruined.

I was livid. 

I have enough self awareness to know that I shouldn’t have made that comment about Brady being a cheater, but I didn’t realize that it would blow up so quickly and so badly. It was a flippant, snide remark — I didn’t even really think about it before I said it. It was wrong, I get that.

But I was mad at Brendan for making assumptions about what I said, accusing me of being mean and then fucking off to Montreal with his stupid friends and then ignoring my entire existence while he was there. He texted me when he landed, I said, “K,” (I was mad!) and then I didn’t hear a peep out of him all weekend. He posted a ton of Instagram stories: video of the sick ass hotel lobby, the view from his room I guess, Kendall, a poker table, an enclosed rooftop pool overlooking the city, the gym, etc. Like he was having a great time. Eventually I deleted the Instagram app on my phone so I wasn’t tempted to check his story every hour. I didn’t want him to get the false sense that I cared. Because I didn’t. And I hoped he wasn’t having that much fun.

I was mad at Caroline for immediately telling Brady what I said. Like I said, it was a flippant comment. She could’ve waited until they were alone to tell him or she could’ve asked me later for clarification or she could’ve said nothing at all! That would’ve saved a lot of drama. Sure, I could’ve not said it, but she could’ve also not run to tell Brady. It’s like she was looking for a moment.

Most of all, I was mad at Brady. What an asshole. He’s blown up at me before, but not like that and not so publicly. He basically insulted me — calling me a child and a liar — and made us both look bad. What happened to being cordial? And if he wanted to yell at me, he could’ve done it when we weren’t in front of people. I was truly not expecting that, hence why I didn’t have much to say back. Mr. Scared of Drama sure caused a scene.

I was still pissed when I dropped Winnie off at Brady’s on Saturday morning. Mainly because I hadn’t spoken to my boyfriend in two days and it was all Brady and Caroline’s faults. And I’d had time to think so I was just waiting for them to come at me.

The house was quiet and dark when I let us in. Usually Caroline popped up out of nowhere to greet us at the door, like she lives there.

“Daddy?” Winnie called, clearly creeped out as well.

Brady was standing in the kitchen on a phone call using his work jargon like “fluid” and “milligrams” so we went around the house finding all of Winnie’s favorite things that she’d missed during the week. I don’t typically go anywhere besides the kitchen or living room, but noticed that all of the artwork, mirrors and decor had been taken off the walls. Once I got Winnie settled on the couch with a YouTube playlist going on her iPad, I went back to the kitchen. Brady was no longer on the phone, but was texting or something.

“Are you happy with yourself?” I started to say, but Brady put his hand up.

“I have no desire to talk to you,” he said.

“I have no desire to talk to you either, Brady, especially after the way you spoke to me the other night,” I said.

“So unless it’s about Winnie, then I don’t really care,” he continued, ignoring me.

“And now everyone at Winnie’s school is talking about her scary dad.”

“Are they talking about her psycho mom as well?”

“So I hope you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not.”

“You are a cheater, by the way. You’ve been with Caroline for over a year apparently and you definitely kissed me and who knows who else during that time…”

“Then what does that make you?”

“And if I’d gotten the chance I could’ve explained to her that not only did you kiss me, but you were the one trying to get back together with me while you were with her…”

“I’m serious, Reese. I don’t want any relationship with you outside of Winnie. I’m done,” Brady said.

“Same! Done!” I said.

“Good,” he said and then went back to his phone.

I expected more of a blow up honestly, or for him to yell at me again, but neither of us even raised our voices. On my drive home, I kept thinking of other things I wish I would’ve said since obviously we wouldn’t be talking about the situation again.

I tried to keep myself busy over the weekend, but I can’t even lie, I spent most of it in bed. I went to a couple workout classes and brunch with Lola, but spent most of my time pretending not to check my phone for messages from Brendan. Or even Brady, to be honest. I thought maybe he’d come to his senses and apologize for being an asshole. Not a chance!

I knew Brendan was getting back from his trip on Sunday evening and I thought he might text me to let me know he was home, but nothing. Hmm, maybe his plane crashed.

On Monday morning I got back on Instagram and saw that Brendan had gotten home and immediately went to hang out with his sister. And he was actually working and replying to emails on Monday (which he hardly ever does anymore) and to me it seemed like he was doing it so I knew he was ignoring me. Then that night, he sent me one of those ASMR videos of a dog getting groomed on Instagram.

I. Was. Fuming. Now I was mad at him for essentially defending Caroline the other night before even asking for my side, for the way he left, for not speaking to me while he was on vacation and now for sending me a dog video like I gave a FUCK.

On Tuesday morning, Brendan texted me saying, “I’m back from my trip.”

OBVIOUSLY. I texted back, “K.”

He waited until way later that night to say, “And I brought you something back.”

Brendan usually brings me something from the various trips he takes: something small and thoughtful, but ultimately inconsequential. Like artisan chocolate.

“Oh, thanks,” I said back.

Clearly we were in a fight so I wanted him to talk to me about that — not pretend like everything was fine and he hadn’t ignored me for like 5 days straight. If he wasn’t going to bring it up then I’d confront him about it eventually…but I was still holding out for now.

We’ve been shopping around for this certain software at work to replace the old, outdated one we had been using. I’ve been bitching to Mike about it for years and then he finally approved it, gave me a budget and put me in charge of finding a replacement. Stuff like this is always sort of fun in theory, but it’s really time consuming and the salespeople can be super pushy and annoying. Which is their job, I guess.

One of these salespeople is a guy named Cooper. Cooper is your typical sales guy: super outgoing, cocky, slightly fratty, with an answer to absolutely everything. The first few calls we had went nowhere because he kept wasting time showing me fancy features we didn’t need. I said, “We are a small company and our budget doesn’t allow for that nor would we use it.” The next time he tried to veer off track I’d be like, “I have a tight schedule today, Cooper, please don’t waste my time.” And that seemed to work.

Cooper came to the office for a demo and then took me to lunch. Another perk of doing these sales meetings is they always treat you to meals or send gifts… you know, to try to win you over. We probably weren’t going to go with his software (too expensive and when cheap-ass Mike saw the prices of the alternatives he said it would be stupid), but Cooper still kept in touch. He’s from Wisconsin or Ohio or something and since I lived in Chicago, he equates me to a Midwest girl. I’m literally born and raised in Texas, but sure. And okay, I held off on telling him we weren’t going to choose the software he was shilling so he’d continue sending me donuts and office supplies and wine to the office. What? Like you wouldn’t?

The rest of the week went by. Winnie got sick and I had to stay home to take care of her. And while I was home nursing my child back to health, Brendan messaged me and asked if I wanted to hang out. I’d barely heard from him all week.

“I can’t. Winnie’s sick,” I said.

Brendan texted back that he hoped she felt better and did we need anything?

“No,” I said.

He said, “Okay.”

Truly, I wasn’t even trying to be a bitch anymore, but my main concern was Winnie. She’d been getting sick quite a bit and she was miserable. 

Then Brendan said, “My dad and I are going to the cabin to do some work in the morning. I’ll be back on Saturday or maybe Sunday.”

Ughhh. I did not expect to still be fighting with him. We usually always hang out on Friday evenings — we order take out and watch TV with Winnie until she falls asleep and then stay up late talking about literally everything under the sun. It obviously wasn’t entirely his fault (Winnie was sick after all), but I was annoyed that we hadn’t resolved anything and he was going away again.

By Saturday, Winnie was feeling a little better and still wanted to go to her dad’s for the weekend. I sent Brady a quick text warning him that I’d be dropping off a slightly sick child and he said, “I will take care of her.”

Like I wasn’t taking care of her? Whatever! Caroline wasn’t there again when I dropped Winnie off and I wondered if Brady was now keeping her away from me (which would be absolutely fine!) or if they were on the rocks. Like Brendan and I were.

Later that evening, Jasmine texted wanting to go out. The last couple of times she texted me asking to go, I’d flaked on her and I thought of doing the same again. But then I thought, no; I’m not going to sit at home feeling bad for myself, I’m going to go out and have fun!

We made plans for sushi and then we’d go to the little Asian fusion lounge she loves where we’d probably meet up with her drug dealer. I wore a denim dress (with pockets), a sherpa bomber and boots by Isabel Marant. It was a very Jasmine inspired look because she always looks so cool.

And listen, I really like Jasmine, but something about her is so…surface level. I don’t know. Like at dinner, I was trying to complain to her about Brady and Brendan and she just kept saying, “Oh wow,” “That’s insane,” and “So then what happened?” Like she wasn’t even listening. And I get it, maybe she doesn’t think my stories are interesting or maybe she finds me boring, but she never tells me anything either, no matter how hard I dig. I’m like, “How’s work, tell me about work?” “What’s going on with your wedding? Is it all planned?” “Miguel left the bar with his 23 year old associate, are you okay with that?” and she always just stares at me blankly and gives the vaguest answers that don’t even address the question.

By the time we got to the lounge, I was toasted from drinking a zillion fruity cocktails laced with Japanese whisky. Jasmine walked up to the bouncers and hugged and kissed them because I guess she’s royalty there.

“You good?” one of the big black men asked me.

Which meant I probably wasn’t good and needed to slow down.

But I didn’t! We ordered drinks and danced and then were escorted to “VIP” (a couple of roped off couches) randomly because Jasmine is royalty, remember? And I don’t really drink like I used to so this was all a lot for me.

Jasmine’s drug dealer friends showed up eventually and joined us in “VIP” and ordered more drinks and shots. And then Cooper and his group of friends showed up. Cooper, the sales guy? Yeah, him. I don’t know who invited him, but he was there too (spoiler: I invited him).

Jasmine and I were up on the sticky leather couch dancing along to the DJ. At one point my drunk ass fell forward, almost face planting off the couch, and I grabbed Cooper’s shoulders to steady myself. He thought I was trying to get down so he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down from the couch. He held onto me and whispered something about “little cowgirl” in my ear. Ew.

I don’t really remember much else.

I woke up still in my denim dress and it had a big puke stain down the front of it. Lovely. I felt like shit, obviously. I changed out of my ruined dress, showered and then got back in bed. Hangovers hit different in your 30s. AKA I was on my deathbed. I would never drink again.

While I was laying there in bed, I went through my phone to see what damage I’d caused the night before. I started to read through my message thread with Cooper and then immediately slid to delete because no. Just no. Jasmine had for some reason sent me a pic of a shirtless Miguel at 4:30 in the morning with the caption “What I get to come home to. 🙄” He looked ragey and trashed in the pic and I deleted that too. I did not need shirtless pics of Miguel infecting my phone even if he is really hot.

Eventually I got up because I really needed carbs (a bagel) and the place I like closes at 2 on Sundays. Plus, my pale pink nails had mysterious black streaks stained on them from whatever I got into the night before so I needed to get them done before work the next day. I looked like I was on heroin. I got dressed in baggy Agolde jeans, Ugg slides, my Sherpa from the night before and sunglasses to hide my 30+ year old hangover.

Brendan finally called while I was picking up my bagel. I’d forgotten about him! I didn’t hear it so I missed the call but when I got back outside I saw that he’d texted to.

“You home?” he said.

“No,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

“I’m getting my nails done. I’ll be home later,” I texted him.

“Okay,” he said again.

I was like, ugh. What was the purpose of that if he wasn’t even going to ask to hang out or to see me? What the fuck ever, I was so over it!

The nail tech made a face at my nasty nails and ordered me to sit down. I was not in the mood for the theatrics — I’m sure she’s seen worse. I got settled in the chair and tried not to vom at all the fumes I was inhaling. It was packed and loud and I was kind of ready to die again. She was still shaving off my old polish when the door swung open and Brendan walked in. I was like, oh. I always go to the same place so I guess he was in the neighborhood and knew where to find me. He waltzed right over to me and squeezed me in a hug from behind and kissed my cheek. Like everything was normal!

My nail tech gestured to the adjacent station to let him know to use the empty chair to sit next to me. So he scooted the chair closer and plopped down next to me. We didn’t say anything right away. Don’t forget, it had been over a week since we’d really talked.

“Did you go out last night?” Brendan finally asked.

I turned to him and slowly nodded. I guess I really did look like shit.

“You still smell like alcohol,” he said and not in a funny, joking kind of way.

I burst into tears. Mind you, I still had my big sunglasses on and my hands were soaking in bowls so I was just there shaking and sobbing and couldn’t really do anything about it. The nail tech sighed, dried her hands off and then attempted to hand me a pile of paper towels before handing them to Brendan instead. Like she’d been in this situation before. For context, this was after my dad told me about my mom and I’d basically kept it bottled in since he told me.

Brendan just stared at me, waiting for me to explain I guess. It wasn’t the right place to share the development about my mom nor was I even sure that I wanted to tell him, but it just came tumbling out.

“My dad told me that my mom is an alcoholic and I’m really upset about it because I should’ve known and I want to help her and…”

Brendan listened and nodded as I told him everything my dad told me. Once I was finished, he said, “I am really sorry to hear that. Is that why you haven’t been yourself?”

I shrugged. Probably.

“My mom is an alcoholic too,” he said.

“She is?”

You know what didn’t make me feel better? That. Brendan’s mom abandoned him and his family and they have basically no relationship. But I did appreciate him coming to find me because I already felt slightly less on edge with him next to me.

“Yeah. When I was a little she used to walk around with a Thermos filled with vodka and one day I drank from it.” He smirked. At least he could laugh about it now, I suppose.

I started crying again and answered/hiccuped the follow up questions he asked like have I suggested treatment to mom and I explained that she hadn’t even admitted to me that she has a problem. And he said other things that I’m sure he’s supposed to: don’t blame yourself, this has nothing to do with you, she has to want to help herself, etc.

What I was thinking and didn’t want to say out loud: I was afraid that one day that could be me.

This is going to sound bad, but I started to avoid phone calls from my dad. Every time his name popped up, I had a panic attack thinking he was going to tell me the news I’d been dreading: my mom was in the hospital with liver failure or she’d driven drunk and killed herself or someone else or he was divorcing her and she was going to have to figure this out on her own. So I ignored his phone calls and waited until he sent a text telling me what he wanted. If I didn’t hear about it then maybe it wasn’t really happening.

Meanwhile, Winnie started school and she absolutely loves it. I figured she would. She loves waking up and getting dressed in the outfit we picked out the night before and the short walk to her school where we always see the same 3 cute fluffy dogs who she is obsessed with. Her best friend is a girl named Olivia, who is basically Winnie in a different font. They’re adorable! And since Winnie loves school so much she’ll be going 5 days a week in starting January. I haven’t run that by Brady yet, but I can’t imagine he’ll have an issue with our child furthering her education. And like I mentioned in my last post, Brady was being a lot nicer to me. Well, maybe nice isn’t the right adjective — but he was cordial, and not actively being rude to me. After we figured out Winnie’s school stuff and we had nothing else to fight about, I guess he had no choice. He was clearly happy in his new relationship and he got out of having to pay for school like he said he would so he had no reason to be mad or mean.

It probably helped that Caroline was almost always at Brady’s house on Saturday mornings when I dropped Winnie off. Which is when I would spend the most time (arguing) with Brady. He couldn’t be mean to me in front of his sweet new girlfriend, could he?

So Brady would half heartedly ask how I’m doing or how my week was and then fuck off to do something else before I could answer. See, he was attempting, but can’t help being an asshole.

Whatever! I was starting to like Caroline, mainly because of how much she seemed to like me. Brady would ask questions and then walk off, but then Caroline would say, “Tell me everything!”

Gladly! I’m like, “My week was fine except I might have to fire my babysitter because she had a manic episode the other night while I was at dinner with my boyfriend so we had to leave. It was really weird and scary.”

“That is so crazy!” Caroline said and she seems way too earnest for it to have been sarcastic.

“I know!” I said back.

Brady was a few feet away and didn’t even bother asking for more details. If he told that story, I’d want to know more!

I guess since we talked about me so much Caroline wanted to open up about herself as well. She told me about work and the grueling 24-hour shifts she has to work since she’s new and how she nearly failed out of college her freshman year because she partied so much. Same bestie! She also opened up to me about how her mother battled breast cancer for most of her childhood and it gave her bad anxiety. This was before everything really kicked off with my mom, but I felt for her.

One day, she even asked to follow each other on Instagram. This was great for me because her account is private and now I could really dig into who she is. But I’m like, “Oh god, this girl really wants to be friends.” I liked her enough, but I wasn’t trying to become friends. Who even knows how long she’s going to be around?  

Lo and behold, Caroline is just as sweet and average and basic as I thought. What? Her Instagram is filled with monthly photo dumps of her “stinky” dog, unflattering candids of her eclectic group of friends and faux artsy nature shots. Very little sign of Brady outside of the occasional story. Most interestingly, she has a few reels posted that I can only categorize as “cringe” — morning routines as a nurse, skin care routine for a 28 year old, and GRWMs that I’m sure no one asked for. I guess she does have really nice skin, to be fair. It’s just weird to me that she’s cosplaying as an influencer with a private Instagram profile.

Anyway. Once the school year was in full swing, Winnie’s school had another wine night an evening “activities presentation” (whatever the fuck that meant) followed by a wine networking hour. This school sure likes to provide wine. I was like, fine — I guess if they insist, I’ll make an appearance. Obviously I invited Brendan to tag along with me and he said he’d go with me. He’s basically Winnie’s stepdad at this point and the following day he was leaving for a long weekend in Montreal with some of his friends so I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. I forwarded the invite to Brady’s email, but he didn’t confirm if he was coming. I figured he wouldn’t since it was at 6:30 PM on a weeknight and you know those are peak Brady working hours. Plus this was just an excuse to socialize/drink, it was not important for him to be there at all.

This was on one of the first nights it got chilly in New York so I wore straight leg MOTHER DENIM, booties by Aquazzara and a chic Veronica Beard blazer draped over my shoulders. I wanted to serve old money cool mom. Brendan on the other hand wore a head to toe Under Armour ‘fit (hoodie and joggers with a vest) like he was about to go warm up before a soccer game or something so I was beyond annoyed by that. I had emphasized that the night was supposed to be super casual, but still. We looked like fucking Justin and Hailey.

But I guess that didn’t really matter anyway. The event was basically just three tables set up in the school’s main hallway advertising the different activities each child could sign up for and a fourth table where a guy was pouring wine. And it turns out, not only was Brady coming to wine night, but he was bringing Caroline as well! For fuck’s sake! As much as I was growing a soft spot for her, I didn’t see why she needed to be at all of Winnie’s school functions. She’s basically still a child herself!

Brendan and I were standing there gabbing with Olivia’s parents (the mom, Victoria, was bitching about their nanny and I was waiting for her to finish so I could bitch about my babysitter). We hadn’t visited any of the displays and Winnie’s teacher had already confronted us about how Winnie and Olivia are both good and smart students, but were picking up bad habits from each other. Excuse me? Did I ask for feedback? This wasn’t exactly hard to believe as Winnie can be a bit of a troublemaker, but it wasn’t easy hearing that my perfect little angel isn’t perfect. So we’d have to work on that.

“She’s like an energy vampire,” I was telling them about my babysitter. “Every time I speak to her she trauma dumps and I never know what to say. Obviously I want to distance myself, but I don’t have a replacement.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brendan lift his hand to wave at someone. Uh, hello? I turned and saw Brady and Caroline making a beeline for us, each with a glass of wine in their hand. Ugh. I shot Brendan a look and he stopped waving.

“Hi Reese! You look so great!” Caroline said, still waving. “Hi Brendan!”

“Thanks,” I said. I get that she’s sweet and all, but I could feel a cavity forming. I really needed her to settle down.

“Hi, I’m Brady,” Brady said to Olivia’s parents before I could introduce them.

“Winnie’s dad,” I clarified in case it wasn’t obvious. “And this is Caroline.”

“Or Cara!” she chirped.

“We’re Olivia’s parents,” Victoria said.

“Olivia and Winnie are besties,” I explained.

“I know. Winnie tells me about Olivia all the time,” Brady said.

“Does she really?” I asked because I didn’t believe him.

“Yes, Reese,” Brady said in that Brady sort of asshole way and shot me a bombastic side eye.

I rolled my eyes back. Whatever. We all stood there sipping our wine while everyone got to know each other. You know, the typical “where are you from, what do you do, where did you go to school?” These people love talking about where they graduated from. I’m like, I went to the biggest party school in the country and barely survived, NEXT! Turns out, Caroline and Olivia’s dad have the same alma mater, but she graduated 11 years after he did. Because she’s fucking 28.

“Does that make you like, Gen Z?” I asked in a judgy tone.

“Uh, nope. I’m definitely a millennial,” Caroline said, giggling. “It’s so funny though because I’m a super young millennial and some of the characteristics—”

Blah blah blah.

So we all started talking about the city (no one grew up in the city except Brendan) and neighborhoods (I gladly mentioned that Brady and Caroline both live in Connecticut) before they started talking about inflation and the economy. I guess Olivia’s dad is a Wall Street dude. They kept mentioning their “portfolios” including Caroline which annoyed me because now I want a portfolio. Then they started talking about Bitcoin which turned into stocks which turned to business. I didn’t understand any of that other bullshit they were talking about, but I could definitely talk business.

“All I know is whatever Kim has done with Skims is genius and should be studied in marketing courses,” I said.

“You don’t think it’s because she’s a Kardashian and arguably the most famous person in the world?” Brady said like I’m fucking stupid.

“Uh, actually I don’t. Obviously it’s helped, but just because she puts her name on a brand doesn’t automatically make it successful. Hence why her other ventures haven’t been,” I said. I couldn’t believe Brady, who doesn’t have a single business savvy bone in his body, would try to argue with me about Kim Kardashian.

Brendan touched my shoulder. “I’ll get you another glass of wine. Unless you want to leave?”

Leave? So then Brady and Caroline could try to steal my new friends? Absolutely not.

“No, I’ll take more wine please,” I requested.

Once we all had more wine, we started talking about the October break for the kids (they were taking Olivia to Disney, ew and I had nothing planned for Winnie). Then we were talking about Thanksgiving and how quickly the holidays were approaching and Caroline mentioned Hanukkah. I was like, wait, is Caroline Jewish? I didn’t want to flat out ask because it doesn’t make any difference to me, but there’s so much about her I don’t know! Does Brady’s mom know he’s dating a Jewish girl? Caroline also brought up something about Brady’s birthday “last year” that made me wonder how long they’ve been dating. From what Brady told me, I assumed that they started dating earlier this year. Didn’t he say that they’d been together for a “couple months” in May when he first told me about her? This would need some investigating.

Eventually, they started folding the tables back up and we were almost the last group left. It was like last call at the club.

“It’s not even 9, I don’t want to go home,” Victoria said. “Should we get a drink next door?”

“I’m off tomorrow so sure!” Caroline enthused.

“I’m not, but we can stay for one drink,” Brady said.

“I have an early flight,” Responsible Brendan said.

“We can stay for one drink too,” I assured him because again, Brady and Caroline were not going to steal my new friends away.

But I should’ve listened to Brendan.

The six of us walked down the block to a dirty little dive/pub. I love New York. Brendan grabbed my hand on the walk and said, “You good?”

“Uh, yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” I said back.

“Dunno. Just checking.”

He could probably sense that things were going downhill. I mean, it was weird right? Why exactly were we having a drink with my ex/baby daddy and his current girlfriend? The conversation wasn’t going that well. And I really needed to get home to relieve my emotionally unstable babysitter. But here I was.

We got inside the bar and found the one table that wasn’t covered in trash.

“I’m going to the bathroom!” I announced before even sitting down.

“I’ll come with you, I need to go too!” Caroline said.

“Okay, what do you want to drink? Wine?” Brendan said.

“Yeah!” I said.

“Same for me!” Caroline said to whoever was listening.

We scurried to the bathroom and each went into a stall. I discovered that Caroline is a pee-talker. I’d rather not with her.

“Ah! Don’t you fucking hate breaking the seal?” she asked over our peeing.

“I don’t really mind,” I said. I don’t think I’d ever heard her curse either.

“Plus I’m so icked out by bar bathrooms, like I feel I’m going to catch chlamydia from this toilet seat,” she continued.

I ignored her and finished up. She met up with me at the sink.

“I always love how you’re dressed,” she said. “I hope I’m hot as a mom, but I’m afraid I’m going to get fat and lose all my hair.”

What? While I appreciated her saying all that, I really only had one thing on my mind.

“So how long have you and Brady been together?” I asked. It totally didn’t matter, but it did matter to me because I wanted to know.

Caroline’s face lit up as she pretended to rack her brain. She strikes me as the kind of girl who has their anniversary written down in several places. “Officially since last September. We were casual for a few months before that.”

For no reason at all, my stomach dropped. This was in September. “A year?”

“Yeah. It flew by!” she said.

A whole fucking year.

“Well, he’s a cheater, so…” I blurted out. I don’t know what possessed me to say that to her, but I said it.

“What makes you say that?” Caroline asked.

I didn’t answer and left her in the bathroom. I guess I called him a cheater because we had that make out last year when Brendan and I were fighting, that was in October. And if they became “official” in September then he definitely had no business making out with me. And if he was casually dating Caroline, then why did he come to my birthday dinner at the end of the August? And then in December, his other ex, planned a birthday party for him, remember? This was after I’d gone through his messages and saw that they were hooking up again over the summer. When did Caroline even come into the picture? And then in February, OF THIS YEAR, he was still asking me if I wanted to get back together and work out our relationship. While he was actively dating Caroline! I assumed that he asked me, I said no and then he got with Caroline. So yeah. Totally a cheater and shady overall.

I got back to the table and was glad to see that my wine had appeared. Brendan was talking to them about the trip he was taking and Olivia’s dad was acting like a know-it-all with his recommendations even after Brendan told him that he’s already been to Montreal several times. Caroline came back to the table and I avoided eye contact with her. Maybe — if she was lucky — I’d explain my comment to her one day.

Olivia’s dad started speaking French with a crude accent which offended me and I’m not even French. Victoria was cringing and begged him to stop, but he and Brendan thought it was funny.

Suddenly Brady blurted out (rudely), “Reese, I never fucking cheated on you. Are you serious?”

The whole table quieted and looked at us. Oh, so Caroline left the bathroom and immediately told him what I said? Nice.

“I didn’t say you did,” I said which is technically true. I never said he cheated on me.

“You’re such a fucking child. Unbelievable. Are you ever going to grow up? Seriously! You’re such a liar,” Brady continued, sounding aggressive and heated.

“Do not speak to me like that,” I said calmly. What else was I supposed to say?

“Aren’t we a little old for your fucking games? Honestly. Grow the fuck up.”

Caroline just stared at me while her man yelled at me.

Finally Brendan said, “That’s enough.” He’d previously just been sitting there, sipping his drink and not saying anything.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Brady muttered under his breath.

“I think speaking that way to a woman is ridiculous,” Victoria said quietly to just us.

And while I completely agreed, couldn’t Brady have saved his little outburst for another time? Maybe a time when other people weren’t around to judge us (but mostly him)? Whether we liked it or not we were connected through Winnie and now we looked bad. Caroline continued to stare at me. I couldn’t wait to never speak to her again.

“Anyway,” I said loudly.

So, yeah. Brady and Caroline quickly downed the rest of their drinks, politely said goodbye and then left and we headed out after that. On the walk back to my apartment, I was like, “I am so embarrassed. I told you Brady is an asshole. I’m sorry about him, that was so unnecessary.”

Brendan said stuff like, “I agree that was rude, you don’t have to apologize, etc,” that made me think he was on my side. He was like, “If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s him.”

And I was like, “So true! Thanks!”

Winnie was already in bed when we got upstairs and Claire (babysitter) went into a 15 minute sob story about how she’s being treated unfairly at work. She was on the verge of tears. See what I mean? I just wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend before he went on his trip. Eventually I pretended to yawn and asked her to text the rest of it to me so I could go to bed (and she absolutely texted me the rest of the story in four long paragraphs).

So then Brendan and I went to my room and fooled around for a little bit and then we had sex. And it really bothered me because do you remember how I said previously that sex with Brendan is different because he takes his time and focuses on me and is just really sweet about it? Idk. But not this time. He got on top of me, fucked me hard until he was finished and then he started putting his clothes back on. I was like, uhh…okay.

Brendan cuddled me for a bit and then he said, “So did Brady cheat on you? You never told me that.”

So he just wanted to fuck quick so we could go back to talking about this?

“He didn’t. At least not that I can confirm,” I said. I don’t have any proof, but I’m pretty sure Brady did stuff behind my back.

“Then why did you tell Cara he did?” Brendan asked.

“Uh, I didn’t.  Are you just assuming that’s what I said or are you going to ask me?” I said.

So he wasn’t even there for the conversation, but believed Cara based on what he observed at the bar? How presumptuous!

“What did you say?”

“I told her that he’s a cheater,” I said simply.

“Well, why did you say that if he didn’t cheat on you? Were you just being mean?”

What the fuck?

“No! I said that because he’s a cheater and he’s cheated on her!” I exclaimed.

“Okay…” Brendan paused. “With you?”

“No!” I screamed. “Why are you questioning me about this? Why do you even care?”

“Just asking,” Brendan said innocently, like any of that was innocent.

“Thanks for immediately taking her side and assuming I’m the one being mean. You don’t even know her!”

“I’m not. That’s why I asked,” he said.

“This doesn’t concern you so you don’t have to ask!” I screamed/yelled. “God, I am so fucking annoyed!”

“Okay.”

I could tell Brendan was annoyed at me, but I was annoyed at him too. It was so unnecessary for him to come at me like that especially after I’d already been attacked by fucking Brady. He sat there for a few minutes not saying anything.

“I still need to finish packing and my flight is early,” he finally said.

“Yeah, I know you have an early flight. Goodbye!”

I laid in bed while Brendan finished getting dressed then he kissed me and left and didn’t talk to me at all while he was in Montreal.