(Rebecca's POV)
The words land somewhere under my ribs and stay there.
I open my mouth. Close it.
Connie's eyes don't leave mine.
"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm telling you this situation is a bomb. Ex-husband becoming better. Current husband absent. Secrets piling up." She holds up a finger before I can interrupt. "Tell Eric everything. The umbrella. The garden. The ease. The curbs. Boring. Over-disclosed. Weekly. Because the version Eric puts together alone in a hotel room from a tabloid photo or a whispered comment will be worse than anything that's actually happening."
My hands curl around my water glass.
The condensation is cold. Slick. Dripping down the sides into a wet ring on the metal table.
"It's co-parenting," I say. "That's all it is."
"Then tell him that. Every
